


Something good is gonna happen

by marea707



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, It’s all fluff okay?, M/M, Oops, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, The story happens during the early 00s – it's not that important but I felt like clearing that up, There is little to no angst, alternative universe, and SMUT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-27 05:21:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8388853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marea707/pseuds/marea707
Summary: "Jason loves to dance by himself; it’s like a ritual to him. He only allows other people to get close to him one or two times a night and he always ends up discarding them once the song is over. People around here say he’s a tease because of that, others that he’s trying too hard to be mysterious. Truth is… it doesn’t really matter. They can talk shit all they want but they all keep watching, don’t they? Not that Howard is paying attention to anyone else at the club, but he’s willing to bet some serious money that everyone in the place is, indeed, looking at him right now. At least they should. And it’s almost as if Jason knows, because he can’t just be this casually enticing, can he? He can’t be so alluring, seductive and graceful by nature, without even trying. 

  And yeah, maybe the pessimistic part of him knows exactly why he hasn’t even approached Jason yet. 
  Jason’s too good."Or: AU where Howard is a tattoo artist who has a very severe obsession with a Long haul commercial Pilot by the name of Jason Orange.





	1. I’m here waiting

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fic for the first [Take That Song Challenge](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ttfictionchallenge). The song I got: Give Good Feeling. 
> 
> Ok, I don’t know what happened. I wanted to make a short smutty fic (because Give Good Feeling is such a smutty song, come on) and ended up doing something completely different. I got too into Howard’s head and if you are not interested in that, then don’t even try it, I don’t want you to be bored.
> 
> Disclaimer: I am from Argentina, so I don’t speak British English nor know the slang that well, so this is in fairly neutral English. I need to find me a britpicker for future stuff *hides*
> 
> Thank you [Libby](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LibbyWrites/pseuds/LibbyWrites) for being my angel, my beta and for the constant patience you have with my horrible grammar. I love you. I owe you a big ass cake for being so fucking patient and supportive of me, I hope you realize that.

This is not the life Howard imagined he’d be living. Way back when he was a young pre-teen he had different plans for his future life. He’d imagine he’d become a painter. He’s always been attracted to art, since he was a toddler. And that passion, that interest, never truly left him. But life is unexpected and, sometimes, your truest passion just pops up out of nowhere. Sometimes you don’t see it coming. Sometimes something just… clicks. And only then it all becomes clear. Not everyone is lucky enough to have those moments, he reckons, but he sure as fuck was. So, yes, the way he lives his life, his profession, his hobbies… they are not what he thought they would be ages ago. But they all make up for a pretty good life, if he says so himself.

And listen, he doesn’t exactly have an overly positive way of thinking. In fact, he can get really dark and really negative, even in his best days. But the truth is that he knows how lucky he is; because he is one of the few people he knows that can actually say they are happy with their lives. No, he isn’t one of the most popular painters in the world, he doesn’t have giant expositions travelling around the world, he isn’t rich as fuck or became the Lichtenstein of his generation. He admits those were naïve and too huge ambitions to pursue, anyways. No, he might not be any of those things he dreamt about when he was 12 years old and started seriously studying painting but his life is so much better than that. It is, seriously. He’s not lying to himself to feel less shitty. Honest.

Well. Maybe a little.

The thing is though; his journey through life had a lot of ups and downs. Dealing with a sick mother dying on her bed after battling cancer when Howard was only 15 years of age, and a shitty father who lost all their money in a horrible investment only a year later and decided the best way to deal with that was to become an alcoholic… well, it all added up to a very turbulent ride.  At some point during those years, Howard had to stop aiming for the skies and had to focus on dealing with what was right there on the ground. He got his first shitty job at an equally shitty and charming record store when he was 16 and that’s when his priorities really started changing. It was hard to keep painting when he had to juggle secondary school, work, house chores and keeping track on paying the bills on top of everything else. Because no one else would, mostly.  He could never trust his dad, not even back then. They would’ve ended up living under a fucking bridge if he had done that. Maybe that’s the reason why he doesn’t talk to his father anymore. Maybe it is because he kicked him out when Howard decided –on his 17th birthday, feeling particularly hopeful and stupidly confident- to tell him he wasn’t interested in women, finding men definitely more appealing. Probably the latter. _Obviously_ the latter.

Not that he thinks much about that these days. Not after 12 years.

Twelve years and eleven months to be precise. Howard will turn 30 next month and he is extremely happy about his life. That is the point of this trip down memory lane, right? He is satisfied with his life. Or. For the most part at least, he is.

Long gone were the days of cleaning shelves and alphabetically arranging records at that trashy and amazing old-school record store. Eventually, he moved on to being the youngest daytime manager the place had ever had. Being a really obscure and independent shop in the center of town, the clientele a very loyal and crazy bunch, he got to meet many interesting people during his time there.  That’s when he met Mark.  Mark, his best friend, roommate and possibly the only human being alive who would come into a record store, offering muffins in exchange of a place on the door to put up a flyer for his band’s gig. Mark was a young boy back then, from a very prestigious family; who was studying strings and conduction at the Royal Academy of Music, who decided to start a band and become a 1.60 cm tall rockstar behind his family’s back. Howard’s always had a special kind of respect for insurgency –no matter towards whom. Naturally, they became instant friends. There was also the fact that Mark was probably the friendliest person you’ll ever meet, so that might’ve been the honest reason why their friendship started. Howard’s always been a social bloke, don’t get him wrong, but Mark was definitely something special. A social butterfly, as they call it. The older boy had been just kicked out of his home and Mark had an extra room. So, not long after that first conversation that ended up with them sharing a couple of Jack Daniels after hours at the closest bar, Howard moved in with Mark.

In hindsight, Howard thinks, it was a really stupid thing to do. For both of them. They barely knew each other; that arrangement could’ve ended up being shite. Luckily, it wasn’t the case. They got along great and lived together for years; until Mark’s parents found out about his son’s real extracurricular activities and stopped paying for the (very spacious and ridiculously expensive) flat. While that arrangement lasted, though, Howard was finally able to start living. Like, _really_ living. He didn’t have his father on his back so he could stop thinking in plural. He was finally able to stop worrying about food for two, essentials and random bills for a house that was way too big for only two men. Mark’s place was fully covered, so Howard was able to start saving up, even working less. That meant he was able to start thinking about his art again.

That’s when the epiphany thing happened. That _click_ in his mind that made it all very clear. He remembers it like it was yesterday, when in fact it happened ten years ago. One of the people he met at the store; this tall, dark, and extremely handsome bloke who believed he was the coolest thing since Johnny Cash, invited him to a convention. A tattoo convention. Back in those days, tattoos weren’t as popular as they are today, so Howard didn’t have a fucking clue what he was getting himself into. Didn’t even occur to him that it could be an interesting place to visit. But. You know what? Back then he had the biggest crush on that dude, he probably would’ve said yes to any invite coming from him. Not even exaggerating. That same day he realized the asshole was not only a douche but a homophobe, when he punched him in the face when Howard tried to see what was what. But before all that ugly business, _the moment_ happened.

That moment he found his way back into the world of art.

That moment he remembered how utterly intoxicating it was to be so inspired by something.

That moment he felt at home again, after so many years of not being at ease with his own heart.

He knows, it sounds like an exaggeration. It was just a fucking tattoo convention after all. Loads of freaks, thugs, bikers; ink and beer… right? Wrong. For Howard it was massively more than that. For him it was a place for real art, without the need of stuffy exhibitions in outdated galleries or posh museums. It felt like a little corner of the world where freedom was the only rule when it came to expressing emotions. It felt like the truest form of declaration of individuality. And on top of that, he saw talent in every corner. Different styles, different ideas, some darker and some sillier. It was like being back in the water after ages of being in the driest weather. It was a spiritual experience for him.

It was… well, that’s what the whole _click_ - _thing_ was about: finally catching up with his soul again. Suddenly it was crystal clear. That’s what he wanted to do. That’s the medium he wanted to use to be in contact with his art again. He wanted to paint still, sure, but the idea of painting on people’s skin; of helping them find a new language to translate their emotions into and enunciate their most precious statements… that sounded more engaging than anything he’d ever considered before.

And he still feels like that about his work, even after all these years. Even when he’s had people asking for the ugliest, most stupid, unchallenging and (at times even) insulting tattoos. Sure, now he’s a renowned tattoo artist. He crafted his work and never stopped trying to learn more, practice more; to get better. Now he’s made a name for himself as well. Now he can create small pieces of art and have people wait in line to have them permanently on their skin. Now he travels and receives people from all over the world who want to specifically have one of his jobs framed on their bodies. But it wasn’t always like that. It had been a long, extremely long road to get to where he is right now. He’s had to tattoo too many infinity symbols, sea horses, girlfriend’s names and zodiac signs for his liking. Way too many. A frustrating amount, if you ask him. But it was all worthy. It really was.  

So no, he was not the great painter he once wanted to be, but he still got to be an artist. He got to be the kind of artist he wanted to be. Sure, the field is definitely not as respected as others when it comes to artistry but, you know, who gives a fuck? Maybe when he was younger he dreamt about being the next Picasso (or, well, Keith Haring was more his style back then) but life changes you, right? The glamour and glitter of being famous that once appealed to him definitely didn’t now. His priorities shifted. Life changed him. And you know what? He truly believed he is a better person for it. He is happier with himself.

That being the key word, right? _Happy_.

And he is. Seriously. He is damn happy with his life; with every aspect of it. Honest. Or. Well, mostly.

The truth is that he is happy on his best days. On his off days, he is also lonely.  He hates to admit it, more often than not he doesn’t –not even in his own head; but it is still there. That feeling, ugly feeling, that exasperates him. He’s been his entire life by himself; he learnt how to live like that. Not in a depressing way but more like… he learnt how to be okay with being alone. Because… he _had to_. His mother died, his father was a homophobic deadbeat loser, he didn’t have much of an extended family and even though he’s had good friends, nothing ever worked out in the long run because he was a horrible judge of character. Truth is; Mark is the first person in his life he didn’t misjudge. His truest friend. And even though he’s immensely grateful to have him and being able to call the young man his brother, it’s not… it’s not the same, is it? That’s not the kind of loneliness Howard’s experiencing.

Maybe that’s why he does this. This _thing_ he’s doing right now. Why he’s been doing it for months. Watching like a proper stalker to this particular man dance in the middle of the floor like nothing else relevant is going on in the room. Because, that’s kind of how it is. That’s sort of what happens every time this man is back in town, hitting the club scene. There is nothing more important than this man giving himself to the music in such an absolute and enchanting way, someone should actually pay him to do that. Or stop him. Or ask him if he’s trying to ruin Howard’s life.

The thing is… he knows this man. This is Jason Orange; everyone on this club knows who Jason Orange is. And that’s not an overstatement.

You see, the alternative dance club scene is fairly prominent in Manchester; but the regulars, they are all one big family. Or—more like a dysfunctional group of people who love to dance, have fun, share various substances, gossip and keep track of every other regular, and never see each other outside of the sweaty dance floors or long after parties that usually lasted until the following afternoon. And yeah, Howard loves it. Not for the quality of the human beings he was sharing time with, but because… well, they were extremely fun times. If you were to ask him, the fact that he didn’t get to see any of these people on his regular days –except for a small bunch that ended up being his regular clients as well; was a real plus to the experience. Everything started and ended in those clubs. It was the perfect place to blow steam; to forget about the world; to dance, drink, laugh, hook up and move on; to simply… let go.

But then, this bloke appears. This man shows up and he can’t simply let loose and go for what he _wants_.

How to describe this tall and gorgeous human being? Howard thinks that you could very accurately sum him up by saying he is absolutely out of this world. But that would be too abstract, right? Jason is a 28 year old strikingly beautiful man, tall and slender with the perfect balance of brawn and softness to drive Howard insane just by thinking about it, he has eyes the color of a bright sky in a sunny day that shine even under the dim lights of the club, he is graceful as he is sensual and he dances every night like he’s having the time of his life.  He’s not exactly a regular. Maybe that’s why every night that Howard comes in and spots him on the dance floor feels like a fucking blessing. You see, Jason is a long haul pilot. That means he’s always travelling, he spends more time around the world that in Manchester. He comes back randomly; sometimes he’s there for several consecutive nights or weekends, sometimes he simply disappears. At first he thought it was just normal, not everyone goes to the same clubs as often as Howard does, right? But then he started asking around, because Jason seemed to know everyone in the scene and curiosity won him over.  That’s when he found out about the other man’s profession. And that it would be virtually impossible to predict when he was going to pop up again; Liam –one of the friends they have in common, explained that once when Howard, pretending to be nonchalant and failing miserably, asked what was the backstory on the handsome stranger acting like he owned the place. That unpredictability was equally parts painful and exciting to Howard. He found himself obsessing over seeing him again during the nights Jason didn’t show up and having some sort of heart attack every time he did.

Normally… Howard is good with people. He is really good. He’s easy going and always interested in engaging in random chats. He has fun trying to find that common ground, that topic that can make two people that barely know each other have an actual conversation over a couple of drinks or a mint tune. He finds it fascinating how this scene makes him be a different kind of social animal. When you can say that you literally had a conversation about different kinds of hot sauces while sharing a blunt in a public bathroom with a bloke that just snorted a line in front of you; then you know your social interactions are not being exactly typical.

And on top of that, he never had any issue getting tail in places like these. He wouldn’t say he is the most charming man in the world, not one bit; but he’s effective. He enjoys the entire exchange. Noticing someone and trying to get their attention; the seduction and maybe, sometimes, a little bit of chase too. And he knows he’s good looking, so that always helps with the confidence. Plus, he’s good at it, if he not-so-humbly says so himself.

That is why, _this_? This thing he’s doing is not only out of character but it’s also something that no other person he’s ever met –in these clubs or in the real world- has ever made him do. And it’s absolutely senseless. The part where he feels attracted to this man, that one makes sense. For god sakes, Howard is sure everyone on this planet would fall flat on their asses for Jason Orange. But what doesn’t make sense is that if it’s only the loneliness what has him fucking obsessed with this gorgeous creature, and he’s not a socially awkward person exactly; then he should have done something at this point. Because it’s been months. Literally three months since the first time he saw Jason. And he’s had several chances. They have people in common; he’s even seen him at a couple of smaller after parties and that would be more than enough of an excuse to at least talk to him. Because no, he hasn’t even talk to Jason yet. They’ve exchanged casual salutations, some superficial group conversations, Howard’s sure they’ve even drank from the same drink once –when Louis discovered the lousy bartender at the place knew how to prepare (some very questionable) Mai Tais and decided to pass them around like a maniac. All of those situations were definitely not important enough to count as actual interactions, Howard admits. But all of them could’ve been great openers all the same.

Yet… here he was. Up on the small bridge that crosses the dance floor; standing next to the rail. Looking down and focusing on only one thing. Gawking. Maybe. Definitely. And it’s not his fault, alright? The way Jason is dancing… eyes closed and mouth slightly parted, moving his body to the rhythm of some horrible remix of La Isla Bonita… it’s hypnotizing. He’s alone, he’s almost always alone. He never comes with anymore and he only dances with other people when he feels like it, which is not too often. Howard’s noticed this, weeks ago. Jason loves to dance by himself; it’s like a ritual to him. He only allows other people to get close to him one or two times a night and he always ends up discarding them once the song is over. People around here say he’s a tease because of that, others that he’s trying too hard to be mysterious. Truth is… it doesn’t really matter. They can talk shit all they want but they all keep watching, don’t they? Not that Howard is paying attention to anyone else at the club, but he’s willing to bet some serious money that everyone in the place is, indeed, looking at him right now. At least they should. And it’s almost as if Jason knows, because he can’t just be this casually enticing, can he? He can’t be so alluring, seductive and graceful by nature, without even trying.

And yeah, maybe the pessimistic part of him knows exactly why he hasn’t even approached Jason yet.

Jason’s too good. At least on paper he is.

And maybe that same pessimistic part reminds him that he doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to the prettiest most charming man he’s ever laid eyes on.


	2. Reach out to you

Howard definitely shouldn’t be clubbing today. Not when he has some early appointments at the shop tomorrow. There’s this musician from… Brazil? (Or was it somewhere else in Latin America? He doesn’t remember) who had his agent call a couple of days ago and express his interest in having something done by him. And the only time he could squeeze him in was early Saturday and now he’s regretting it. Sure, he could be more responsible, right? Stay home, go to bed early and start his day fresh and rested. But. That is not how he operates. It’s Friday night and that means his weekend has already started, fuck responsibilities. He’ll deal with that tomorrow. So, he decided to go out, have a couple of drinks and dances before he goes back home to get some hours of sleep in before having to run to the studio tomorrow and rethink every decision he’s ever made.

And, you know, he’s actually thankful he did that. He’s positive he’s not even going to regret this particular decision tomorrow when he’s dragging his feet fighting to stay awake, that’s how thankful he is. Because this weekend brought some particular news with it, and Howard is glad he was at the club for it: Jason was back in town. It’s been a month since he’s seen him last, it is the longest he’s been without seeing him and he was starting to get worried. To the point where he asked around and, he was sure, made a fool of himself by allowing his stalker-y side be on full display in front of other people. He doesn’t even know Jason, why would he be asking around? One thing is to inquire for details on the mysterious stranger, like he’s done in the past. Another, very different is to actually ask about his schedule and why he would be missing for four weekends in a row. He didn’t care though; even if word got around to Jason he wouldn’t care. The only thing he cared about was Jason wearing that very translucent dark blue shirt, gracefully dancing alone, smiling more than he usually did and making Howard wonder what had him in such a good mood. At one point he started actually capering to the music, to which Howard had to laugh at. Jason was fascinating; he was so goddamn interesting to watch and sure—part of it had to do with those tight vinyl trousers he was wearing but not all of it. Jason is always terribly delightful to just… admire.

The thing is… it is late. It really is late. He should’ve left like an hour ago if he was planning on at least cashing in a couple of hours of sleep. He should’ve left at that moment and he knew that he had to move, say goodbye to his stalking ways for the night and just get his arse out of that club. And he was going to, he was planning on doing it, honest. But first, he had to get closer to Jason, only for a couple of minutes. He wanted to see him from up close and see his face one more time before he left, okay? It was pathetic and he knew it. But let’s face it, it’s not like it’s the first time he’s done that; so, it’s not a new kind of pathetic, just the regular.

But then, it got different. Really fast, really quick. And Howard didn’t even see it coming. Because this had _never_ happened before.  It was not the first time he got closer to where Jason is dancing; he loved to watch him from afar but he also liked to reduce the distance from time to time while trying to remain as casual as possible. And that’s exactly what he tried to do; only this time… Jason looked back at him.

He looked directly at him and stared, making Howard feel like he was caught red handed doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Or at least he felt like that for all of 3 seconds, because the smile Jason displayed in response was pretty fucking effective at making him forget all about that. Instead, his heart started racing and he found himself smiling back, awkwardly waving and enunciating a ‘hello’ clear enough so Jason could read his lips. So, after that, he felt like an idiot because, seriously, who the fuck waves at a person in this context—but then, he also forgot about that because Jason laughed. Not in a mocking way, but in a pleasing way. He didn’t even look annoyed, but gratified. Maybe even flattered? And yes, okay, Howard was definitely going to remember that laugh, even if he didn’t actually hear it.

Fuck. It was seriously beautiful, that reaction. So beautiful, Howard had to leave before he did something stupid. He was electrified by that simple laugh and he knew that was not normal. A laugh was not enough of a reason to approach him. It’s not like Jason invited him to get closer through a laugh, right? Especially when he resumed his dancing after that; going back to ignoring Howard’s presence. He probably was laughing because he knew Howard was staring, right? Shit. He had to fucking chill. And he suddenly needed another drink. Yes, that. One more drink before he left to deal with that small –but very present- sense of rejection he was feeling.

Another beer will do. A cold one, because rejection is not the only thing he is dealing with. He feels hot all over, just because of a laugh. Although it wasn’t just that, was it? This wasn’t _just_ anyone and it wasn’t exactly a clear cut denial either. He didn’t ignore Howard, and that was good. Good for what, he doesn’t know. It’s not like he was actually planning on doing something about his infatuation; he is pretty sure he doesn’t stand a chance. He does have fantasies about that though, but still, those are just fantasies. And yet, it felt good. Satisfying.

God, he feels like such a loser.

And no one makes him feel like a loser, it’s not something that really happens to him. His self-esteem is not the best but it’s not that bad either.

He heads over to the bar and basically drinks the rest of his beer in one huge gulp just to try and pass that ugly sensation in his fucking gut. But then he almost spits it all back out just as easy.

“Hello, Howard” he hears mid-swallow and when he glances, he sees the last person he thought he’d see.

_Ok. He remembers your name. Fuck. Ingest the damn liquid, you big dork._

“Jason Orange, as I live and breathe” he manages to voice out once he passed his beer in a very natural and not at all forced way, if he says so himself. He will count that as a victory, for sure. Mostly because he’s having trouble breathing with how close Jason is right now.

“You remember me...You even remember my family name, I feel blessed.” It should sound a bit mocking but it doesn’t, I really does not. It even looks like he is, indeed, flattered by that.

“You should, I have a shit memory” Howard decides to joke and then he wants to kick himself in the shin for it. He does have a truly horrible memory, though. So at least there’s that.

“Well, I do” Jason assures and then smiles, curiously looking directly at the other man’s eyes and basically preventing him from breathing altogether. But hey, hopefully he doesn’t notice because he continues. “What have I done to deserve such privilege, I wonder.” Oh, and now he has to be mocking Howard because that sounds too close to flirting. Howard thinks he should have his own head examined.

“You wouldn’t have to wonder _that_ hard, would you.” Is what he says. And yes, he said it in a teasing tone. He decides that, if he’s going to have an actual conversation with this bloke, then he’s not going to shy away from it. Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system, maybe it’s the butterflies attacking his stomach thanks to the huge smile Jason gives back to that comment but he is willing to actually entertain the idea that this handsome man he’s been obsessing over is actually flirting with him.  

“Actually, I think I would” he counters, diverting his eyes and… oh my god, is he slightly biting his lower lip? Can Howard wake up now?

But no, okay, did Jason just say he would have to wonder why Howard might remember his last name? Is he joking? “I didn’t picture you that kind of lad” Howard is the curious one now, “playing humble doesn’t exactly suit you, mate.” It doesn’t. Jason is so obviously striking, he shouldn’t even be allowed to pretend he’s not aware of it.

“Who says I’m playing?” is what he asks, which has Howard frowning, slightly confused but interested nonetheless.

“Well… I say so?” he declares still scowling. “Either you are playing or you are downright blind,” he concludes.

And maybe it sounds a little aggressive, maybe even judgmental but Howard doesn’t realize it until the words are out and he doesn’t even have time to explain himself because Jason doesn’t look bothered by it. Not one bit. He actually looks a little puzzled but willing to carry this line of conversation. “Why do I have to be pretending? What if the things you consider to be deserving of remembering my name are not attributes I would redeem as worthy of distinction?” he very pretentiously asks, or at least that’s what Howard thinks.

Is he trying to confuse Howard or is he actually trying to start a debate? Well, he doesn’t know but what he does know is that Jason looks amused while asking the question, so he knows exactly what to answer to that. “Then I’d say you are definitely trying too fucking hard to be humble.” Howard decides, because he realizes this is bantering and he’ll be damned if he lets this opportunity slip from his hands.

 “What if you are the one seeing something I’m not?” Jason asks and now he’s facing Howard with his entire body, only slightly leaning on the bar with one arm.

“Then blind it is” Howard mimics Jason’s posture and without even realizing it, they are locking eye contact. In a somewhat defying and really fucking hot way, Howard thinks. Not that he’s doing much thinking right now. Is this really happening? Apparently it is.

“Or maybe perception is subjective?” Jason tries to bargain.

“Nope” Howard shakes his head; he is so not accepting that. “Blind” he insists and doesn’t move a muscle, because Jason just made their distance smaller and--- Fuck. Yeah, okay, flirting doesn’t sound so farfetched now.

“So, tell me then” Jason starts and he gets even closer so that he doesn’t need to yell the following question. “What are you exactly seeing?” he asks and he’s so damn close Howard can smell his fucking perfume. It’s _Le Male_ by Jean Paul Gaultier, in case anyone was wondering. Howard sure wasn’t but he makes a mental note about this new information.

There’s clear challenge in Jason’s eyes that should turn his brain into mush –Howard’s sure it will, later when he replays this moment in his head; but for now it’s only making him want to humor him, to _let him know_. So he does. Fuck it. “Alright, I’ll spill” he accepts, getting even closer. So close, he can count Jason’s eyelashes. So close, he can feel Jason’s surprised exhale in his face when he lets out a “You” in the form of a clear confession. And he doesn’t stop there because even though Jason does look slightly taken by surprise, he also looks possibly interested… and that’s enough incentive. He already opened his mouth, didn’t he? No reason to shy away now. His secret is already out. And—damn. Howard thinks he sees a light blush in Jason’s cheeks but for the sake of his own sanity he’s going to attribute that to the fact that he had been dancing less than ten minutes ago. “And how you make everyone around you seem mundane in comparison…” and he could stop there, content that he actually managed to say that in an alluring tone and that he didn’t sound like he was trying too hard to be seductive. But he doesn’t stop; he takes it one step further; “every single night you are here.” It’s how he finishes that sentence and it could be a superficial thing to say but Howard knows it wasn’t. He basically just admitted that he’s been _noticing_ Jason way before than tonight.

What does Jason do? He smirks as a response. A really pointed and satisfied smirk, if Howard’s reading him correctly.

And he is.

Ok, he is definitely 100% sure that Jason is flirting now. It’s evident and he’d be an absolute idiot if he didn’t see that by now. And that--- it really catches him off guard. For all he fantasized about this, he has no fucking clue on what to do with it now.

He basically forgot how to be a normal human being, apparently.

Or maybe he just freaks out at the idea of this actually happening.

“Wait…” Jason lets out surprised. And he should be, because Howard definitely broke the moment by backing away and closing the jacket he had already on before all of this. “Are you leaving?” He asks and Howard nods slightly still backing away, still smiling with that fulfilled glow in his entire face, but backing away nonetheless.

He could play it off as part of the teasing; he could pretend he is playing a little; that he’s leaving him wanting more. Truth is… he is freaking the fuck out, okay?

“Early day” because, remember? He was going to finish his drink and then leave so he could at least have a couple of hours of sleep before heading to work. Yes, that is a huge pile of bullshit of an excuse but it is still true, isn’t it? And the sudden horrible idea that Jason might think of this as a rejection kind of makes him want to tear his eyes out; so instead, he opts for something a little bit more normal and asks… “Will you be here tomorrow or are _you_ leaving already?” another hidden confession, that he knows that Jason leaves town often. Maybe he won’t notice.

Probably doesn’t and if he does, then he doesn’t mind because he’s nodding and beaming back, yelling a “Tomorrow” loud enough so that Howard can hear him over the loud music.

“Tomorrow” he yells back, grinning satisfied and getting the fuck out of there as fast as humanly possible.

And later, the entire cab ride back to his place, he doesn’t stop cursing himself in silence. Maybe out loud too, but no one needs to know except for the driver who is nice enough to not say anything about it.

Did he really just left Jason fucking Orange wanting more? Is that a thing that just happened?

Or did he just fuck this up?

_What the fuck did he just do?_


	3. Needing you

It was a good thing, okay? It was a positive thing. It was not the end of the world and he didn’t make a huge mistake when he left the club the night before. It was teasing, alright? It was all part of the chase, him leaving early after having confessed his clear interest to a person that let him know that he was interested back. He was playing hard to get (…or something, that’s what people call it, right?) It was an acceptable thing to do and Jason even looked entertained by it. So it was alright. It would be alright. He didn’t fuck things up. He did not commit a horrible aberration by running away from the obvious advances of the one person he’s been (let’s face it) fucking pinning over for a really, _really_ long time. He didn’t blow away the one opportunity to make every fucking fantasy he’s had over the past four months happen. Right? _Right?_

Well, maybe if he says that enough times to himself he can start believing it. Maybe he’ll stop losing his shit at the idea of having made the biggest fucking mistake by leaving.

And Howard tried, all day. He tried repeating all those constructive thoughts over and over. He tried remembering the gorgeous beam Jason had on his face when he suggested that _‘tomorrow’_ was a thing. He tried to remind himself that he’s the one that has been wishing silently for this to happen. For all Jason knew, Howard could only be playing a little, trying to remain interesting and he wouldn’t be the one feeling like months of wanting were more than fucking enough to be waiting and that he should’ve acted instead of just… waiting one more day. Nope, those were only Howard’s feelings, not Jason’s. Howard’s the one that has been waiting weeks on top of weeks and now decided, like the fucking idiot he is, that waiting one more day was acceptable and reasonable.

If--- _If_ that was even an option at that point. _Shit._ Ok. Maybe that plan revolving around him not losing his shit was not exactly working for Howard because every time he thought about that, it felt like a fucking knot was closing around his throat.

He spent the entire day obsessively counting the hours for the night to arrive. He needed to make things right. Because if he— _did_ make a mistake; then he could sure rectify it. Or—he was hoping he could. That “tomorrow” Jason let out sounded sincere and excited, like he couldn’t wait; so maybe he didn’t ruin everything by escaping _the_ moment he’s been wishing for and never really thought it was a possibility.

Oh god, Jason _liked him._ How much, he didn’t know, but at this point any kind of interest feels like a fucking blessing to Howard. Unreal and too damn appealing. That’s why he left, he knows. His head needed time to get around the idea. To understand and, you know, try and _believe_ that this was happening, that this could be happening _to him_. Hours later and he still doesn’t fully do, though. But he’s sure he’s done thinking.

You see, he’s never been an impulsive man. Not really. He’s made some rushed decisions and he’s been quick when deciding to shag more than one person during his life but this time… this time it feels different. It is different for him. He is aware he doesn’t really know Jason; he realizes that his infatuation comes from a superficial place, maybe, but--- he wants to know that person. He wants to find out _everything_ there is to know about Jason and he wants to start with this, with finding out what makes him tick, what he can do to make Jason want him as much as Howards wants him. That’s why this time it feels like it matters. Like it _really matters_. And that is why he needed time to think and collect himself. Because he is done being careful but it was still so foreign to him to be impulsive when it _really_ mattered.

But he got there. He was there. He needed to act. He couldn’t go back to just watching now and he thinks he’s ready –or as ready as he’s ever going to be- to do something about it. The possibilities were too great, the what-could-be’s and the curiosity and--- basically how much he _craved_ having that dream of a man all to himself… yeah, that was stronger than any kind of fear he might’ve had. He just needed time to get over that; to fully grasp what’s really important here. To show him how much he’s been thirsting over him, show him the way he believes Jason deserves.

You know, that is if--- _If_ Jason considers that the offer’s still on the table.

But Howard is committed to find out. It’s all or nothing. And with that in mind, determined as he’s never been about anything in his life, he makes his way into the club, saying hello to random people and making sure his hair is in the right place, but with only one real thing driving him: finding Jason.

It’s funny, for all his conviction on what he’s about to do, his hands are sweating and heart is pounding like he’s fifteen years old and about to meet George Michael. Nervous, that’s what he is. Really fucking nervous. It may not be the first time he comes to the club with the idea of seeing Jason, but this is the first time he’s preparing himself to go full in. All or nothing. Get everything he’s even wanted or go home, dismissed and empty handed –and, probably, if he were to be a bit more dramatic, he’d say heartbroken too. But he’s not saying that. Shut up.

After a couple of walks around the club and almost the same number of drinks in him –he needed the liquid courage, sue him- he _finally_ sees Jason. He’s right there, in the middle of the biggest dance floor of the place; shining like the star he is, bright and dazzling; carelessly moving to the bass line and barely paying attention to the three blokes dancing around him. Howard has to smile at that. At first, he admits it, he used to get this pangs of incoherent jealousy when stuff like this happened. But now… is just effortlessly mesmerizing, Jason is. So it’s only natural that he attracts every moving body around him. And today –especially today, all those bodies orbiting around him, thinking they stand a chance, they don’t matter.

Yes, that borders on uncharacteristic arrogance, he knows. Did he mention he’s _very_ determined?

He doesn’t even think about it, he just walks towards that scene. His heart feels like it’s in his throat now, his legs are trying really hard not to literally shake and he’s sure he’s going to need some kind of sports drink because he can feel the nervous sweat in the back of his neck. But he doesn’t stop, he strides until he’s sure he’s on Jason’s eyesight. Or would be, if his eyes were open. They aren’t, they are slightly closed while he obviously enjoys the music –maybe even the attention. God, Howard is fascinated. Stupidly smitten. Only then he stays still and uses those few seconds to take a good look at Jason from up close. Not like he’s done before. Not even close. This time, he’s not trying to be casual. This time he’s definitely admiring him without any veil to mask it as insignificant. His eyes are running over every detail he can appreciate in the dim lights of the club; from those very elegant purple shoes Jason’s wearing, all the way to his perfectly styled hair.  He’s being very meticulous during those short seconds, Howard is. And just when he’s about to move again is when Jason opens his eyes and immediately notices him.

_Jason smiles._ He raises the most beautiful smile Howard has ever seen. (Ok. He might be a bit biased, but whatever, he considers he’s allowed.)

And who gives a fuck really, because Jason’s first reaction is the most honest reaction possible and Howard feels like he’s flying. All that determination is still there, only now it’s multiplied in such a way that he feels like he’s fucking buzzing in his place; like he’s going to get restless leg syndrome if he doesn’t move.

Only… he doesn’t need to, because Jason’s the one moving. He ignores those three men dancing around him, he dodges them without even having to touch them, and graciously carries himself until his directly facing Howard, standing close enough that Howard wonders if he can hear how loud his chest is pounding. So close he can clearly listen Jason wording a “You came” that sounds nothing remotely close to surprised but more like he’s relieved he did.

“I always do” Howard answers once he decides to get only one step closer. “You are the one who pops up only when the planets align” he reckons teasing is allowed. He already confessed he’s been paying close attention to Jason, right? What’s going a little further on that admission at this point? And, you know what? If Jason keeps beaming like that, Howard’s ready to give him everything he’s ever owned and maybe even admit to the murder of anyone Jason needs him to.

“Keeping tabs on me, are we?” he’s the one teasing now, asking that in a soother tone almost directly into Howard’s ear.

“I told you, ‘s hard not to” he directly answers once the electricity of Jason’s breathe caressing his skin allows him. He looks into Jason’s eyes and they look so… open, delighted and earnest; he just can’t help but want to take this opportunity to start really being that _‘all in’_ version of himself he decided hours ago he was going to be the next time he sees this man. It’s kind of easy to want it. It’s hard to explain why, but everything in Jason’s demeanor is so welcoming it makes Howard feels like they are in the same page. Which is ridiculous, he knows, but it still feels like that. It’s like he’s feeling the real charm of Jason or some shit. One that is exclusive for him, that’s how it feels. If he were more articulate when it came to words, he’d be able to express it correctly. As it is, he knows that he’s about to give an extra step. And he does it with full confidence that is not the wrong one when his hand softly brushes Jason’s cheek. And the reaction to that? Fuck. Yes, Howard is actively thanking fuck internally he didn’t drink more than two beers. If he were any more inebriated he’d be unable to control his own reaction. Jason shut his eyes completely, moving his head against Howard’s touch, parting slightly his lips and looking like everything else around him stopped existing. If Howard was crazy enough, he’d say Jason looks like he’s been finally feeling something he’s wanted to feel for a long time.  “No one else matters in the room when you are around.” It’s a new version of what he’s said already, he knows. But it’s still true and it’s still important to remind him that. That this is the weight Howard’s been gladly carrying around. It’s also the perfect transition to let his hand move to the back of Jason’s neck and use it to hold him in place so he can move towards him an reduce the little distance still separating them. This catches Jason, who’s still with his beautiful eyes closed, off guard but accepts the invasion gladly, both of his arms resting on Howard’s shoulder line now. “I’ve been watching you for months” he decides to take advantage of how undeniably courageous he feels now thanks to the adrenaline of Jason’s warmth so close to his. He simply says it, confess it, properly. His secret out there in the open for Jason to appreciate or reject.

A laugh comes out from the other man’s lips, small but obviously entertained, maybe even flattered and Howard’s lips curved because he wasn’t expecting that. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but not that. It relaxes him, lets him breathe easier. It makes it possible for him to start moving his body, following Jason’s; both of them dancing without really dancing now; feeling the music and each other’s body interact with the movement. It’s basically the perfect way to feel him this close for the first time. _God, this is the start of the best dream he’s ever had, right?_

And then-- there’s another confession coming from a set of lips that don’t belong to Howard. “I’ve noticed” Jason speaks, so close to Howard’s face, their noses are touching.

And wait---what?

No, seriously, _what?_ Did Jason just--- ok, apparently Howard doesn’t even need to ask because the question mark in his face must be really evident, since Jason simply raises his eyebrows in an expression that is definitely an answer. A _‘yes, I’ve noticed’_ kind of answer. Or a _‘you weren’t being really as inconspicuous as you thought you were being, man’_ kind of answer.

And yes, okay, the fact that Jason _knows_ is big, massive, and humongous--- but also… “And you don’t mind?” That is also important. Or. Fuckloads more important, to be quite honest. The response to that question doesn’t come in the form of words. It comes as a slight shake of Jason’s head and his teeth biting his bottom lip. _Jesus fuck---_  it’s really hard to follow the music when his knees feel like they are about to give, okay? But he tries, to keep moving, not stop the dancing or— not to fucking faint at this point. His hold on Jason’s nape becomes tighter as a result and he can barely say the next thing out loud but he manages to find enough air to do so… “You… like my eyes on you.” It’s not so much a question this time. He might have trouble believing his luck right now, but he’s not stupid. He’s getting what Jason’s laying on the table, even if it’s really fucking hard to believe that this is actually his life at the moment. And even if it’s not a question, Jason’s answer comes anyway. Nodding twice and looking directly into his eyes with such transparency, Howard feels the effect of the small gesture travel through his veins, thrilling him.

This is the moment where Howard would love to say that he did something incredibly provocative; something fitting of the situation; something that Jason would find sexy and attractive; something appropriate for the kind of reaction he wish he was having; something that would sweep Jason away, that would leave him a mess of words and astonishment; something charming and impressive. Basically, something other than what he did. Which is _nothing_ ; stays fucking frozen while he at least tries to keep moving to the rhythm of whatever song is playing, their bodies touching in all the right places and definitely not enough at this point.

Jason’s the one that moves; his cute nose finds its way to Howard’s soft neck skin. “I’ve wanted you to get this close to me for two months” he murmurs right into his ear, loud enough to sound clear as daylight even over the loud music.

And okay, it’s been two months since Jason actually noticed, that’s not too embarrassing. But also--how is that even--- “You didn’t say anything.” Why? Why would he notice and not say a word?

“Oh, I’ve flirted--- you just didn’t seem to catch it.” Now Howard is not only overwhelmed and on his way of being turned on, but also confused. Did Jason flirt? The few conversations they had were in a too casual environment for him to be flirting? Had he been too subtle for Howard to notice? Had he been so negated to the possibility of someone like Jason being interested in him that he simply never even saw it? Oh god, he remembers this one time Jason asked about tattoos in clothed parts of his body but that was a joke, right? That had been a joke; he even remembers Liam and the other guys laughing next to him. Ok, basically he was dizzy trying to relive every interaction he’s ever had with Jason, trying to find thing he might’ve missed.

But... well, there was something else, wasn’t there? “You didn’t even look at me.” If he’s seen Howard ogling like a creep from the dark corners of this huge club then… why didn’t Jason acknowledge him, let him know he knew Howard’s eyes were on him?

“I wanted you to come to me, not the other way around” Jason whispers into his ear, so close his lips are almost touching his earlobe and he says it in such an intimate voice, Howard feels it in his bones.

“Why?” he asks, sensing there is a point to Jason’s confession. Hoping there is one as well.

“I wanted to know…” he starts and stops himself, only for a second so that he can move his head, looking directly at Howard now. “I wanted to know if you are the kind of person who could demand what they want.” And that is more than what is sounds. It is. That is definitely more because Jason’s eyes are yelling challenge, excitement, even hope. Oh god, he is telling Howard something without saying the words and his body gets it before his head does. Every corner of his body gets the whiplash of the words, the meaning, the revelation…

_Demanding_. He wanted Howard to act, to get what he wanted. To claim him. _Jesus. Fucking. Christ_. Howard’s brain is going to fucking melt with how fucking hot he finds that. That Jason wants that; that he likes that. That Jason’s been wanting him but was strong-willed enough to wait, because he wanted Howard to overpower him. Yeah—shit, his brain was going to start dripping off of his nostrils any second now.

“But then… I slipped” Jason interrupts the internal meltdown Howard is having trying to deal with this, effectively bringing him back.

“You looked at me yesterday” he manages to utter coherently. That’s what Jason means. Yesterday, he looked at him for the first time and that’s what triggered this, isn’t it?

“Exactly…” he answers and raises his chin a little, clear challenge back in those big, gorgeous eyes. “So I am still wondering… how good are you at claiming what you want.”

Oh… Jason has no clue what he got himself into.

 ~ ~ ~

 

Howard pushes him, harder than he intended, not hard enough to be considered aggressive but—passionate. And Jason seems to agree because the thud that his back makes against the wall is impossible to hear, yet Howard feels it in the way the other man’s lips part to let out a sound that is equal parts a moan and a gasp of delighted surprise.

They are in one of the club’s hallways connecting the floors with the bathrooms, the one that was closer to them. It’s darker, less crowded and considerably quieter; the upbeat music still decorating the ambiance but dulled by the concrete surrounding them. Now he can actually hear and talk to Jason without having to raise his voice too much. Which is a good thing, because he’s way too worked up already to be wasting energy in yelling. Not that they are doing much talking, mind.

After Jason’s consideration and hidden request, they… adjusted. That’s what Howard is calling it.  Or, he caught up with Jason, to phrase it properly. Sure, his initial shock was not that easy to wear off, but the second those pretty lips challenged him… well, let’s just say it served really well to finally shake off all that confusion, at least for the moment. Who cared if Jason didn’t say anything? Who cared if he didn’t notice? Who gave a flying fuck if he couldn’t still really fathom the fact that Jason expressed actual interest? Who gave a shit if it still sounded too good to be true? Not him. All that mattered was what Jason asked for. That he pointedly told him he wanted to see just how good Howard could get at claiming him. And that? Oh, yes. That Howard could do. He’s been dreaming about it for three months now. That he could do really well. And he was so ready to give Jason exactly what he wanted. Suddenly it was clear, that’s everything that mattered. The rest? Well, that will be a tale for tomorrow to deal with.

After that; their dance became dirtier, the words less, the air got heavier and the room much smaller. After that; their eyes locked and told each other the dirtier things while their bodies expressed it, teasing each other until Howard couldn’t take it anymore. Tempting was all good and well but this… this was not going to be enough. Not even near the vicinity of enough. And that’s when Howard grabbed Jason by the back of the neck and dragged him to this precise spot of the club, so that they could at least pretend to have some intimacy. It will do, at least for the moment. He has better plans. And at this point, he suspects that Jason would be on board.

But first--- he wants to play a little. He can’t help it. He’s weak. And Jason looks too good like this; agitated, his cheeks red and his eyes dark, showing desire and completely submissive at the same time. As if he is patiently waiting for Howard to show him but fighting the urge to yell at him to do something.

“You really knew I’ve been ogling?” Howard asks; his lips so close to Jason’s he could taste them if he really wanted to. But not yet—first he asks, while his hand firm on Jason’s nape closes a little to grab him tighter.

“Yeah…” Jason doesn’t really speak; it’s more like a sound in the form of an exhale that hits Howard’s face warmer than any summer breeze. Makes him feel ten times better as well.

“You’ve been dancing for me then?” Howard whispers with a firm voice, not leaving the other man’s eyes, pushing him harder against the wall while one of his legs makes its way between Jason’s. Looking for a reaction…

And a reaction he got. “Fuck---yes” Jason moans his answer, making Howard smile in satisfaction and letting his leg go a little further, giving him only a bit more friction. “Been thinking about doing so many other things too,” he confesses with his eyes closed now, licking his lips and so obviously turned on, Howard could scream.

“Dammit, Jason” he grunts instead and pushes further against Jason’s crotch. His free hand goes to firmly hold Jason’s chin, moving his head so that he can graze the delicate skin of his neck with his lips. “You are such a fucking tease” he declares. And it’s not a bitter or sharp accusation but exactly the opposite. It’s only the truth, one that Howard finds incredibly arousing.

“Only when I really like someone,” Jason heavily sighs.

And to that, Howard has to stop. Because it’s not fair, is it? He knows that can mean a thousand different sexual and superficial things but the tone that Jason uses makes it almost seem as if it’s something else. Something Howard obviously wants. And that, he knows, is the one thing it’s too soon to claim. But even if he is aware, he needs a second. A second so he can process the fact that his heart is pounding harder and louder and not because he’s seriously hard at the moment, but because of what that little confession is doing to him. He needs to at least point out that it’s one that he likes. So his face goes back to face Jason’s when he asks “You really like me?” trying to sound playful; to sound like he’s not a desperate and needy bloke who’s been dreaming about maybe, one day, being able to get close enough to Jason to hear him say those words addressed to him.

And he knows it doesn’t mean anything, he knows he needs to know Jason in ten different levels for it to actually mean anything, to be real.

Still, when this wonderful man looks at him with equal parts desire, fondness and earnestness before whispering _Yes_ as if it’s terribly obvious _;_ Howard feels like that is the most precious secret he’s unveiled all night.

And if the charged intensity of that moment creates the scenario for the perfect first kiss, then no one could argue with him; Howard reckons. And even if they did, they’d be wrong.

~ ~ ~

 

The first kiss, even if it was definitely wanted, it also was kind of tentative, soft, something shy and maybe even sweet. It was the perfect way to start. It was the first sip of a cold drink you’ve never tasted before, one that promised so much but you didn’t know exactly how it would feel on your tongue, one that looked better than anything you’ve ever tried but you couldn’t possibly know just how much of that was idealization or wishful thinking. This one though… this was one different kind of kiss.

It was not the first and it was not the second either. It was a number that Howard didn’t know because at some point he stopped counting. It was a kiss not given in the dimly-lit club anymore; it was not modest, it was definitely _not_ tentative. Their kisses changed after that first one; that initial kick was everything they needed to _understand_. Their bodies got it the second their lips met and everything felt so organically magnificent after it, that this outcome? This particular kiss they were sharing right now? Yeah… call it chemistry or whatever the hell you want to call it, but it felt like the kind of kiss they should’ve been sharing all along.

No one was around anymore, and that’s exactly how they were doing this. Like no one was around to pay attention anymore. Jason’s building’s corridor wasn’t exactly private, but it was enough for now. Enough for them to be sharing a moment of delightful contact, expressing how much they wanted to be on the other side of that flat’s door and finally, finally, be in complete and absolute concealment from the world. Howard would take a second to bask on that, on how much he’s dreamt about this exact moment, how much he fantasized with it too, but you know what? It would probably be the hardest thing to do because the way Jason’s lips were unabashedly searching for his made his brain turn into some kind of goo he couldn’t even begin to try and think straight thoughts.

But. At the same time, there was this one thing clearly still actively dancing somewhat coherently in his brain. This one thing ringing in his ear: Jason’s words. The request he so charmingly expressed back at the club. Howard was wondering, concretely, how much control Jason would _want_ him to have. Howard was honestly curious. He needed to know. Mainly, because there was one thing he wanted to do and that was to give Jason everything he wanted. Maybe it was the fact that he was already so hard, his hormones screamed to give this gorgeous creature every single thing he asked for. Or maybe it was the fact that this was Jason fucking Orange and Howard truly believed he deserved everything he pleased. Whatever it was, the reasons for this need were irrelevant. They just were. And against all the time Howard took to gain the guts to approach Jason would indicate; he’s always been really good at acting on his own desires.

They were supposed to be heading for Jason’s flat but got distracted on the way when Howard decided to grab Jay’s trousers’ waist to bring him close for a second. Well, it was supposed to be for just a second, just one more kiss to gain enough energy to actually get into Jason’s apartment. But that didn’t work out like that. Once their lips touched again, neither of them let go. Instead, they tried to keep moving without stopping what they were doing. And that didn’t quite work out either, not fully. At least they got to –what Howard assumed- was Jason’s actual door, so that would have to be enough of a victory for the time being.

He presses his body against Jason’s pushing him even harder against the wall, smiling mid-kiss because the sweet moan that comes out of his lips when he obviously feels Howard’s erection is better than any kind of sound he’s ever heard before. Jason’s hands are holding on to Howard’s back, fingers half grabbing his shirt and half nailing into his back through the fabric, while the kiss gets harder, heavier, and so damn hotter.

“Fuck—Jason…” he tries to speak, embarrassingly panting already and using his hands to brush Jason’s arms all the way to his hands, moving them against the wall, using the rest of his body to hold him in place. “Open the bloody door, now” he doesn’t even have to try to sound demanding, biting Jason’s lower lip before resuming the kiss.

“Or what?” Jason murmurs between his lips, taunting him but with so much _want_ in his voice it sounds unconvincing.  

Howard uses the lower half of his body to press Jason’s even harder and puts distance between their faces, opening his eyes and looking for his. Only when he does, he speaks again “Or I’ll bust the door down myself” he answers tightening the hold on Jason’s wrists for emphasis. The delighted smile on Jason’s turned on expression, obviously indicating that it was a great answer. “Or I’ll just get on my knees right here and do my thing if you don’t mind” he finishes on a playful tone, joking and maybe, only a bit, not so much. He has half a mind to do it, alright? He’s beyond caring at this point.

Jason laughs but goes determined for Howard’s lips, to steal one more unpolished kiss that is more impact and teeth than an actual kiss, enough of a distraction so that he can regain his freedom and go for his keys. Not that Howard fights him much as he only pretends to do it.

The door is soon open and they both basically run inside. Jason closes it, making sure it’s locked and Howard takes those seconds to decide what he’s going to do. He does it fast too, because as soon as Jason’s done with the lock, he has Howard plastered against his back, one arm around his body keeping Jason close and the other hand firm but gently grabbing him by the neck. “I have to ask…” Of course he has to ask. It’s important that he does before anything else happens between them. “You said you wanted me to claim what I want…” he purrs, his lips gently grazing Jay’s lobe; “do you still want that?”

And it’s beautiful, Howard thinks. The way he knows the answer even before Jason says anything. Because he can feel the other man’s body immediately react to the question. Getting stiff but then almost melting between his arms, his breath becoming heavier; the softest noise escaping Jason’s mouth. Howard’s hold becomes a little tighter around his neck now, using that reaction as an indication that what he’s doing is alright. And that makes Jason moan his answer. Literally moan a “Yes” that travels directly from Howard’s ears to his crotch.

“Shit---” he heavily lets out when Jason’s ass presses against his crotch, just making sure Howard understands his previous answer. Yeah, Howard got it before but he was definitely not complaining. He moves his hand from Jay’s neck to his chin and tilts his head enough so that he’s able to reach those wonderfully talented lips “Perfect answer” Howard whispers before going for a full, deep, wet kiss without losing his hold on Jason’s body in that same position, making it even tighter so that Jason’s impossibly closer to him. “Bedroom” he croaks after that, with evident desire in his voice. He needs to do this in a bed, he wants to be in this man’s bed for this; there is no question about that.

Only when Jason uses a hand to point the direction Howard moves him in place so that their chests are meeting now, not taking more than a second to enjoy that before he’s lifting him in the air, grip firm on his ass and Jason’s legs are holding on to Howard waist.  Once they are inside the bedroom he stops the passionate and amazing kiss they are sharing, placing Jason back on the floor and goes to close the door without even thinking. He needs the privacy, even if there’s no one else in the flat; it’s not a conscious action. When he looks back at Jason, he’s marveled to find that the other man is just… standing there. He’s not doing anything other than waiting. Flustered, disheveled hair, swollen lip trapped between his teeth and so obviously turned on, Howard almost chokes on his own tongue; but not doing anything other than standing there, in the middle of the room, looking challengingly at Howard with big dark eyes, desire as evident there as in that fucking tempting bulge in his trousers.

But… he’s not moving; that’s the point. He’s waiting and-- maybe it should be obvious at this point; but that’s the moment when Howard fully understands just how much Jason wants to not be the one in control. How deep that previous confession given at the club went.

And that? _Fuck_. That’s like he is silently offering an entire fucking feast for Howard to enjoy however he wants. That is the best fucking promise so far. And that makes every possible idea on what to do in Howard’s head to fall right into place. It is one of those _clicks_ again. He _likes_ this. That Jason is giving him the control, that this is the dynamic Jason wants… it is new for Howard, in more than one way, but it feels so fucking great and the ideas were popping so clearly in his head already, he is delightfully excited –aside from the obvious. And he is internally dying too, okay? Because it is too much and the perfect amount at the same time, what Jason is offering, what Jason _is_. The moment doesn’t last more than ten seconds but it is powerful enough for Howard. It is enlightening; dramatic as it sounds, that’s exactly what it is.

 And, as it turns out, Howard wants to test that.

He gets closer to Jason, close enough that he’d be able to count his eyelashes if he wanted to but not too close that his body is touching him. He keeps the distance on purpose, only looking into his eyes intensely. Jason doesn’t even attempt to break eye contact; doesn’t move a damn muscle except for his lips slightly parting in anticipation. Howard can’t help but smirk, so satisfied by seeing this small demonstration of commitment it should feel ridiculous… yet it doesn’t. Oh, it really doesn’t. It mostly makes him feel anxious, in the most wonderful way.

And he’s planning on milking this, this sensation, one that is truly something new, something that Jason’s showing him by doing virtually nothing aside from existing. It must have something to do with dominating and submissive dynamics, right? But is not exactly that, because at first sight he might be in control but there’s no trace of compliance in Jason’s eyes. He’s not passively begging for Howard to act. He’s waiting, sure. But those eyes… those big, profoundly gorgeously sharp blue eyes… they are looking at Howard almost as if they are defying him; and that is probably the most arousing thing Jason’s done so far. And as far as Howard’s concerned, that man is a walking fountain of stimulation, so that’s definitely saying something.

Howard is deliberate when unbuttoning the other man’s shirt without actually touching him; taking his time and never diverting his eyes from Jason’s. No matter how hard his heart is pounding, or how much his dick is twitching in his pants, or how much every damn corner of his body is begging him to at least graze the soft looking skin of Jason’s bare chest, he doesn’t. It would be that much sweeter when it’s time. With his range of vision fixated on Jay’s face, he unzips the man’s trousers and smiles cheekily the second he finally decides to watch what his hands are doing. Jesus fucking Christ… he’s rock hard---his erection springs out when Howard slides the fabric far down his legs he’s so hard. And he looks _so_ good, that Howard has to literally swallow his own saliva because he’s sure he’s about to drool. _Lord_ \--- don’t get him wrong, Howard normally loves cock. Cocks in general, he’s a big fan, alright? Loves having them, eating them, playing with them, you name it; any size or shape. He has no issue admitting that. But—Jason’s is… well, in keeping to the rest of his body. Perfect. Perfect looking, beautiful even, not too big, definitely not small and the loveliest shade of pink and—yeah, ok, Howard’s definitely salivating.

He will choke on that cock; he’s making the mental note as he finally gets rid of Jason’s clothes and shoes. Fuck---the anxiety is growing in him to the point when it’s starting to feel honestly overwhelming, but he’s not hurrying his movements. On his knees, he gives one more look at Jason like that. Naked, exposed, and still not moving a damn muscle. To that, he promises to himself that he will taste that magnificent erection but---not now. Right now, he has other plans in mind.

Not a single word is uttered, their breathing the only sound decorating the room, the tension becoming more evident; a kind of tension that is definitely wanted. Howard gets on his feet again and he doesn’t reduce the distance entirely, not just yet. His eyes travel across every visible corner of Jason’s body, the seconds stretching that tension in delicious ways. He savors it, devours really the avid excitement on Jason’s face. Loves the fact that only by staring at the dark gorgeous light on them, Howard can tell that he’s not the only one soaking on that moment. He definitely takes his time to relish on that. Half because he needs to, needs the breather--- because Jason is possibly the most exquisitely fascinating thing he’s ever had in front of his eyes. And half because he’s trying to tease Jason, see exactly how determined the other man is to release control. Maybe trying to see if he breaks, like he did on the club earlier; secretly wishing he wouldn’t.

“You look…” Howard starts, murmuring and licking his lips unconsciously while he tries to find the words. And, possibly, to simply _deal_ \--

“Like everything you’ve ever wanted?” Jason supplies cheekily and definitely using his charming ways to sound smug and playful at the same time.

Howard doesn’t laugh though, doesn’t even smile even though he can clearly see that Jason’s entertained by his own joking comment. What Howard does, is walk a step towards him and grip firmly on his chin getting impossibly close to Jason’s lips “…that, and so much more.” He smiles now; not a joking smile, not even close. He’s being so honest; he could have his other hand on a fucking bible and swear on it. Not that he’s a religious man, but that’s beside the point. And… he could chill, right? Be a little less intense. But he wants Jason to understand that he’s not fucking around. He has no fucking clue what’s going to happen tomorrow, doesn’t even know if Jason would want him out of the house when they are done, but for now… this moment and what they are doing? He’s determined to make Jason see that even if it ends up being a onetime thing, he’s going to give it his all. He’s been waiting for this for too long to give him any less than his best.

“That was so cheesy” is what Jason says and Howard’s sure he’s trying to taunt him, but it doesn’t really come out that way. It sounds more like he’s trying to conceal how much he liked Howard’s own cheesiness with yet another cheeky moment.

“And you are terrible at pretending you don’t like it” Howard counters with a winning smile and before Jason can say anything to that, he lets go of his chin to grab him by the waist. With firm hands, one in each hip, he moves him so that Jason’s back is facing him now. Howard pulls him back so that their bodies are touching and his erection presses lightly on Jason’s ass. His lips land softly on the warm skin of Jason’s neck and he nuzzles and kisses it almost innocently. Only that doesn’t last long, because he suddenly feels the push of Jay’s ass against his crotch. A grunt escapes his mouth and he bites on the skin, placing his hands on the other man’s thighs so that he’s got a better grip, to keep him in place. Jason arches his back again and Howard can’t help but moan this time, pressing harder against Jason’s skin.

It’s driving him a bit mad, the insufficiency of it all. He’s still fully dressed and even if the friction is sweet it’s definitely not fucking enough. And the thing is… he likes that. Likes that right now it’s not about him. That’s exactly how he wants to keep this…

So he tightens his grab on Jason’s stopping him from moving backwards and pushes harder against him, making it a point to kiss the sweet spot behind Jason’s ear and release a soft moan as he does. “You’re going to do as I say;” it’s not a question, not really. Even if he’s giving Jason the moment to stop him, he’s not asking him to do what he says; he’s letting him know that this is how it’s going to be. Jason’s comeback though, is not so much a response as it is a reaction, but it works just the same. The sweet sound that comes out of his lips, delighted and excited in the same amount, is everything Howard needs to know, to dissipate any kind of doubt he might’ve had. “In all fours then; on the bed” he orders, a bit more demanding than before, a lot more confident.

Pliantly Jason obeys the second Howard releases him. And he’s unabashed about it too. He knows exactly how to stand, walk towards the bed, how to bend and how to present himself so that he’s giving Howard the best show he’s seen in ages. If ever, jeez.

Howard places his big hand on the center of Jason’s lower back, taking a second to appreciate how great it looks on his slim waist; digits gently grazing over his skin, teasing. “I will open you up with my tongue, okay?--- Been thinking about that perky arse since I saw it in those fucking tight vinyl trousers for the first time” he confesses, feeling Jason’s muscles react to the way his fingers find their way to where that precious gap between his cheeks starts, maybe to his promises as well.

“Took you long enough---” he murmurs from his place and Howard has half a mind to scold him for that even if he’s right because that had been months ago; but he doesn’t want to do that, not really. That’s not how he wants this to go. He likes that Jason’s being terribly obedient but that he’s still challenging him when opening his mouth. It’s an interesting combination, to say the least. Is fucking delightful is what it is. So, instead, he lets two fingers find their way deeper into the warm crack, almost grazing his entrance but not quite just yet. Jason whines at that, clearly not enough and then sighs in frustration. “Fine--- I’ve been thinking about your cock since around the same time” he offers almost as if he’s bargaining. Howard says nothing even though he wants to know more. He uses his other hand to get a handful of one of his cheeks in encouragement for him to continue; intently looking at the way Jason’s moving his body towards him immediately, silently asking for more. “I remember because--- you had a pair of really tight jeans on—really fucking tight--” he barely finishes, the way Howard’s now graving both of him buns, strongly opening him for a better view, obviously messing with his speech.

“Did you really think about me?” he murmurs loud enough for Jason to hear and for him to feel that his mouth is now dangerously close to his exposed hole.

“Ye---yes” he fights to let out and to move towards Howard’s face simultaneously.

“What did you think about?” he asks, holding him in place firmer now, making sure that he can’t move and keeping his distance still, so close to his rift he’s sure Jason can feel it every time he exhales. “Tell me…” he insists and when he feels Jason’s about to talk, he goes for it, uses his tongue to shallowly taste the spot, stealing an instant moan from the man, apparently making the task of speaking something Jason forgets about. He does it again, this time pressing a little harder against the ring of muscles but definitely not hard enough to significantly penetrate it. The reaction coming from Jason is just as sweet and automatic. “Come on, Jay…” he urges receiving a frustrated whimper as a response.

“I’m trying” he complains, making Howard smile wide at the altered tone with which the words come out. “I thought about you doing that---” Howard stops licking now, using his tongue to go a little deeper, barely past the ring. Maybe that’s why Jay has trouble to finish the sentence. Maybe it’s because Howard’s hands are being a lot tougher now when handling his cheeks, making sure he has all the space he needs to treat that sweet split. He doesn’t rush him, though. Jason will finish his confession eventually, he prefers focusing on what he’s doing, enjoying the shit out of how it gets easier to go a little further every time his tongue goes in, “…eating me and taking me apart and---” he continues and the words die again, because Howard stops what he was doing for a minute, only to go back in with a lot more tenacity this time.

He wants to open him up as much as he can like this, wants to make sure he’s wet and ready before he even thinks about finding out where Jason keeps the lube. He wants Jason to be begging and pliant before that. He buries his face and is using his entire mouth now, soaking in the warmness and in how Jason sounds are escalating, getting louder and erratic, as his own actions become more relentless. 

“Fuck---” Jason groans in surprise when one of Howard’s digits pushes through his hole. It’s not exactly rough because Howard makes sure he damps the spot enough for it, but it’s definitely an unexpected invasion and Jason’s muscles contract to that; only for a second though, because once that initial impact wears off, he relaxes enough for Howard to keep going, eventually going back to using his mouth as well. “I---thought about your fingers in me—“ Jay lets out mid moaning, seriously making an effort to let the words out and Howard realizes… he’s enjoying the exhibition, the vulnerability that comes with any kind of private confessions like this one.

So he stops using his mouth for a minute, while his hands are still working; “Yeah? And?” only to encourage him because he likes this too, he wants to know from Jason’s words exactly what else he’s been a protagonist of in those fantasies.

“Shit—and wondered how your cock would feel filling me” he bleats in a sweetly and almost desirous voice and tries to move, hopelessly against Howards face looking for more of what he’s feeling.

“Mhm… and how do you think it feels” Howard asks profoundly interested and three fingers deep in Jason now.

“Like everything I’ve ever wanted” is what he says as a response and it’s not in a joking tone, yet the fact that he’s using those exact words is not lost on Howard, who decides to go in deeper and crook his fingers looking for that spot “---and more” he barely finishes in a whine because Howard finally finds it.

“Cheeky” he scolds, delighted; lets the invasion work the muscles only a couple more times after that, teasing the spot every time he goes in without missing it once since he found it. “Let’s see if you were right” he decides as soon as he considers it’s enough. Partly because he can tell Jason’s body is ready, he’s been ready for the last 5 minutes actually; he was just really enjoying stretching him. And partly because his patience is wearing thin, his own cock is starting to literally hurt absolutely neglected.

Jason groans loudly in complaint when the invasion subdues completely and Howard steps away from the bed. Still, he’s not moving from his place, he just hides his face against the mattress giving Howard the best possible sight so far. _Fucking Christ---_ in that position his hole looks open, beautifully red and wet and so ready, his dick is already leaking and he can see how his body is slightly shaking in anticipation. It’s not like Howard was planning on actually talking but if he were, he would be absolutely out of fucking words.

Taking advantage of the fact that Jason is not looking in his direction, Howard takes his clothes off as fast as light speed, throwing them away to god knows where, not giving a single fuck about anything else but being nude as soon as possible. Only when he’s done doing that, he takes a huge breather to chill and at least sound restrained when he speaks again. “Stuff?” he starts getting close to the bed again, placing his palm open on the center of Jason’s back; “I need to know where the stuff is, babe?” he asks in an almost a sweet tone, letting his hand travel the line of Jason’s spine all the way to his neck and then his hair. It’s short, but not too short so Howard can grab a handful of it; guiding Jason’s head and forcing him to look at him. Jay opens his mouth at the action, looking so turned on that Howard has to repress a huge smile he just wants to unleash. Fuck--- this man is seriously the best thing that’s happened to Howard in ages, he swears, it’s not just the hormones talking.

Finally, Jay points with his chin in the direction of the nightstand. “Hurry up” he whispers needy and absolutely unashamed. Howard does smile at that, pleased. So fucking pleased he could literally yell but he won’t, because he’s trying to look in control here. He goes for a deep, wet and sweet kiss instead; carefully letting go of his hair after that, placing his face the same way it was before.

It’s so difficult to actually decide what he wants to do. Jason is there, like the most marvelous present, ready for Howard to let him do practically anything and he can’t for the life of him decide what he wants to do more. He usually never thinks this much, not when he’s this painfully turned on, but the truth is that he never wanted this much for something to be anything less than perfect. He wants this to be the most splendid experience he can offer to that impossibly divine creature waiting for him. And that is a lot of pressure, alright? That is--- this is _Jason Orange_. That same enchanting presence he’s been enjoying in secret, that human being that has been stealing so much time in his head that he can barely admit it to anyone else, that sublime person he’s been too scared to approach. The one man that’s done that to him, make him feel not good enough and not because of his inadequacies but because Jason is simply out of this world… And even though he knows that most of that was idealization (of course he does, he’s not stupid), at this point he is sure that _this_ Jason, the real one who is on that bed panting and eager for him, the real Jason… well, Howard is sure the unrealistic image he had of Jason before, it isn’t exactly too far off.

But even if the pressure is making him feel undecided and anxious as fuck, it is also fuel. He loves a good challenge, Howard does.  And Jason? Jason is a challenge for sure. What he wants to give to Jason is definitely a challenge. And that’s it, isn’t it? That is everything he needs, that fire inside, for his head to clear. For every cloud to dissipate only leaving the determination and confidence he plans to use to get this done the way he wants to.

He finds what he needs in the drawer fast enough before getting back to that sweet place on the mattress between Jason’s calves. He doesn’t lose much time securing the rubber and lube, the really insufficient touch of his fingers around his cock when he’s lubing himself making him almost squirm. He thanks Jason’s not looking at him right now, because he’s pretty sure the look on his face becomes ridiculous when Jason arches his back a little more, leaving his ass so far up in the air it’s like he’s silently calling Howard, almost as if he knows that it is a hundred times more effective than any word.

Howard uses only his lubed thumb to go directly to trace Jason’s rim, carefully applying pressure and teasing him only a bit further, looking for reactions on the other man. He gets them alright, he can listen to Jason babbling something he can’t quite understand because it’s being muffled by the mattress and he can’t help but chuckle in silence. It’s not only really steamy to see Jason like this, but it’s also so fucking entertaining, he would love to be more of a patient person. He’d love to have the willpower to keep doing this, to find new ways of driving him insane until he can’t hold it anymore, until he’s at the verge of tears of frustration ready to finally claim what he wants. But. He is not. At least not now, he seriously can’t do that, because if he does he’s going to be the one who ends up sobbing. Maybe literally. Quite possibly, actually.

So no, he will save that idea for later, if later is an option. He’ll put it in that long list he already has of things he would do to Jason if given the chance.

For now, he lets that thumb dance around Jason’s hole, tracing the ring of muscles and enjoys the shit out of the sounds of sheer frustration and pleasure Jason’s not even trying to suppress. His other hand goes for Jay’s thigh, manhandling him so that his legs are separated enough to be at the perfect height. He doesn’t let him know, there is no warning, not out loud at least. With the help of his first hand, he positions his cock between Jason’s cheeks, only slightly touching his entrance with his head. That is his own version of a warning, because he believes that one is always needed. Even if Howard’s supposed to be the one in control of what is happening, he’s very aware that Jason holds all the power. And even if everything in Jason’s demeanor screams consent, one can never be too sure in these types of situations, right?

And you know what? Jason taking the moment to actually free his mouth from the mattress and bark a “Come the fuck on” lacking any of the patience shown until right now and the fact that he was still not moving a damn muscle to hurry what Howard was doing, was so fucking  unbelievably hot that Howard’s not even sorry. He silently snickers at that, but doesn’t waste one more second.

Tight. Really, seriously tight and he’s not even all the way in. Jason’s muscles are fighting the invasion, giving him such a sweet taste of what’s coming, but also making him understand that he needs to give Jason his time. So he places a calming palm in the center of Jay’s back and applies a little pressure, tracing up and down his spine again softly and patiently until he feels the muscles relax around him. Slowly he goes all the way in, closing his eyes at the sweet and warm sensation, that first contact kind of thing, still trying to give Jason time and not lose his fucking head in the process. A small smile appears when he feels the tightness become lighter and Jason’s body under his palm relax a little; that smile really takes over his whole face when he hears Jason moan assertively while moving his hips only a little towards Howard’s body. “What was that?” he asks like he has no clue what Jay’s trying to say, because this is too sweet no to milk it, even if the only thing he wants to do is exactly what Jason’s body is asking.

“Move---fuck, How— _move_ please” the urgency is palpable, the nickname sounds so damn sweet coming from those lips in such a deliriously aroused tone. Howard’s so pleased, he immediate obliges.

They are shy at first, small thrusts only to make sure that Jason’s good with it. And also, testing himself in the process. Because Jason feels… shit--- honest-to-fucking-god _incredible_. Howard… he’s fucked a lot of asses, alright? It’s not romantic and it doesn’t sound charming, but it is what it is. He’s sexually open, always been and has no shame when acting on it. But right now, he can’t think of a single body that felt quite like Jason’s does. He can’t even think of anyone he’s ever had who could make him feel the same way he’s feeling right now. Buzzing, excited with a kind of electricity that it’s impossible to explain, his heart pounding so hard he’s sure it’s literally audible. No one ever made him feel like this moment was something to be cherished, not only enjoyed. Like this was _different_. Like there would be a before and after.

That’s exactly what Jay’s making him feel. Not only emotionally but also physically. For fuck sakes, he feels just _right_ with the way he’s receiving him, those pretty noises that started just as shy as the movements he was making now becoming unruly, louder and a lot more erratic, almost as if they were in sync with every thrust. It gets hotter and heavier and so _much_ Howard has to force his eyes to stay open because he doesn’t want to lose a single second of the sight he has in front of his eyes. The show that is Jason receiving him, the way his cock gets lost in him and how every time he tries to go deeper, Jason moves his hips against it, as if he’s on the same page, wanting the same, even though it’s literally impossible. Everything about the way their bodies are meeting is maddening to Howard and he wants to do this for hours, he swears. He wants to have the fucking stamina to do this for at least an entire hour because anything less wouldn’t feel like enough. He can’t help but translate the desperation that comes with that thought into his movements, gaining more and more momentum, still not enough but delicious at the same time; he’s letting himself go without a fucking care in the world.

He knows though, there is only one thing that can make this better. And he’s not asking, there is not point to that. Instead, he acts. It’s not smooth—actually is sloppy as fuck; but in a matter of seconds he is out of Jason, ignoring the literal whining sound that he lets out in absolute protest, and he roughly moves him so that he’s with his back against the mattress, with his legs wide open so Howard can go back to what he was doing before. And he does. He doesn’t lose a damn heartbeat before he’s buried deep in Jason again, resuming the exact rhythm he found before, only this time he’s doing looking it directly into those blue eyes. And Howard’s so thankful he’s done that, because the expression in Jason’s face is… oh, man. He would’ve never forgiven himself if he missed that. The curious brows, blushed cheeks, mouth open and eyes full of a mixture of desire and pleasure---Howard is sure no one, on this fucking planet, looks as breathtaking as Jason does at that very second.

At first Jason is confused by the change in position, maybe even a little startled; but it doesn’t last more than two seconds. It becomes evident in his acceptance that even if this feels a lot more intimate, he’s alright with that. Howard’s chest feels less heavy when he understands that, because it scared him for a minute. Steamy and hot as this is, he wants to be able to see him directly in the eyes, he wants to make Jason’s body fly all the way to an intense orgasm and be able to capture every single detail displayed on his beautiful face.

And that is a sentiment a lot more intimate than what they should be sharing right now. Even as turned on as he is, he’s aware. He is absolutely conscious of that. And he was not sure if that was alright with Jay. That is why, when he sees the way the other man accepts the change, even before Howard starts moving again, he understands it’s not only the desperation of wanting to resume the act what makes Jason welcome this, but also a silent –but loud enough- way of saying this was alright. They were in sync when it came to this too.

Yeah. That is sort of like the last drop. That is the thing that makes Howard really let go. Forget about all the concerns, doubts or plans he might be trying to find a way to achieve and didn’t know exactly how. There will be time for that after this. He’s not done with Jason---that part is clear. And the acceptance of this slight change in dynamics, seemingly stupid (because let’s face it, it’s just a change in positions, nothing fancy or groundbreaking) but not at all insignificant, makes him finally push all the remaining apprehension aside and yield to the immediate necessity, to what his body is screaming for, to put every worry in the back of his mind and finally give everything he has left into enjoying this; determined to make Jason savor the last of the trail towards his orgasm.

After that the only thing that matters is the urgency of simply letting any kind of restraint disappear between them. And that is not only true to Howard but also to Jason. _Oh god_ \--- Jason is a fucking spectacle like this. Howard is sure he’d be able to come simply by looking at him. Jason’s trying not to close his eyes, like’s he’s intensely hanging on to Howard’s eyes, telling him things he can’t really voice because he’s too agitated, too immersed in the moment. He’s getting louder, he’s making every effort to collide with Howard’s body in every thrust, he’s grabbing Howard’s ass so hard he’s sure he’ll have bruises in the form of fingers tomorrow, his breathe becomes erratic and the moment Howard uses his hands to put one of Jason’s legs on his shoulder, finding the perfect angle to make sure he is hitting that precious spot again every time he went in--- Jason’s done.

It’s so enticing and incredible fascinating –not to mention fucking obscene- that Jason is so goddamn transparent with every reaction, every small and big one, they are all delicious. Howard is ready to start believing in god and thank him for this, he swears. And also, he’s trying to think about god for a minute because he can’t find anything more unerotic at the moment and he needs it, else he’ll end up coming too soon for his liking. _Not yet, Donald. Not yet._

It’s seriously fucking complicated, though. But he does his best; his honest-to-god (ha) best.

But he does need to hurry this up a bit. Even if the idea of making Jason come untouched is fucking sweet, he figures he can’t afford to do that right now. He’s definitely too far gone to attempt that. That is going to be yet another thing to look forward to. So he uses one hand to help Jason out, wrapping it around his gorgeous cock and giving it small tugs with the right amount of pressure, trying to match the movements of his body.

He doesn’t see it coming but he feels it. He feels it in his hands when Jason’s cock starts to throb, eventually getting Howard’s hand all wet. He feels it in his own prick when Jason’s muscles start to deliciously tense around him. He feels it in the way Jason’s body becomes stiff and then loose with the aftershocks of every wave of pleasure. He feels it when Jason’s loud moans become definite, nasty and so fucking filthy that is like they are making love to Howard’s own ears. And he definitely feels it altering to shit every single one of his senses when he sees Jason’s eyes fluttering shut with Howard’s name on his lips.

And that’s it. After that, the lasting game is basically impossible to maintain. After that, Howard’s the one coming so hard he swears he sees the fucking stars and even feels them in every corner of his existence.

It is definitely one of the best orgasms he’s ever had.

No, not the best, shut up. If he says that, he’ll sound like he’s exaggerating and he swears he is not. This is the realest feeling in the world.

But. Ok. Maybe it was the best. But no one else needs to know right now.

Only when the waves of pleasure are subsiding is that he realizes two things. One, that he’s biting his lips so hard he’s sure he tastes something metallic. And second, that Jason’s hands are no longer in his ass and they are around him. Apparently, Howard fainted for a couple of seconds or something because he’s very unceremoniously lying on top of Jason. Not that the other man is moving, though. He’s simply holding Howard, with this beautiful face hidden in the crook of his neck, still agitated but his lips calmly brushing against Howard’s skin.

For the longest minutes neither of them attempt to move or speak. It’s only after Jason murmurs amused that his left leg is falling asleep that Howard finds his place on the mattress next to him. But not before kissing his lips with a lot more evident adoration than he intended.

_Not that Jason minds, though. Only… Howard doesn’t know that yet._

~ ~ ~

 

“Duane Bryers…”Jason whispers and the words almost echo in the silence of the room.

“What?” Howard has no idea what that means, knows the artist’s name but doesn’t understand why Jason is bringing him up in what seems to be a very random comment. Supposes it makes sense in Jason’s head though, maybe he wants to chat about something and figures Howard knows the illustrator. He would be right after all; Howard’s very familiar with the man’s work.  So he opens his eyes and tries to find Jason face in that position to see what’s up.

They are resting on the bedroom’s floor, have been for the good part of an hour. Howard’s head is settled on Jay’s thighs and even if he doesn’t exactly remember why they ended up on the floor, he has absolutely no complaints. Or, well, he kind of remembers _how_ they ended up there. They fell off during a very enthusiastically heavy making out session, ended up laughing like maniacs when Howard’s back hit the floor and then resumed the activities right there on the comfy black carpet. But he doesn’t remember _why_ they decided to stay there after that. He guesses they were too exhausted enjoying the post-orgasm bliss at first, comfortable enough later; so neither of them bothered.  Point being, he’s not complaining. How could he? Jay’s sweetly running his fingers through Howard’s dreadlocks, which feels amazing. And the fact that he keeps doing that and mixing it up sometimes by softly scratching his scalp, when Howard explicitly told him how much he loves that feeling, is making this such a peacefully sweet moment, he figures that would justify the not-wanting-to-move situation.

It’s way past midnight, long hours had passed since they left the club and arrived here. And Howard’s been… having the most unreal night. Not only because _this_ was happening with Jason ---which was hard to believe all on itself. But also because, even if they’ve been going at it like fucking rabbits and that was intoxicating; the quiet times --the ones they need to recover and decided to spend sharing that bottle of vodka from Jason’s cabinet or a blunt like they are doing now, while chatting and slowly getting to know each other; those have been amazing as well.

Jason is interesting, brilliant and funny. He’s sweet and kind and has the weirdest sense of humor. He has the ability to talk with the calmest tone about basically any subject and transfer that calmness unto you. Howard is sure he could talk someone through an emergency plane landing and have them not freak the hell out if he uses that voice, that’s how powerful it is. He’s collected as well, makes it seem like every word that comes out of his mouth is exactly what he wanted to say. He’s smart. Oh god, he’s incredibly smart and sharp but can make the dorkiest comments and get away with it. And---for the love of god, it’s been--what? 6 hours? can't be more than that—since they crossed the flat’s door and he’s so goddamn infatuated by everything Jason is, he should have his head examined. Or not, really. Some scientist should do some experiments on Jason, because Howard is sure someone like him shouldn’t be allowed to naturally exist.

Ok, maybe he’s exaggerating.

But cut the bloke a break, alright? It’s hard to be objective when you are experiencing butterflies attacking your goddamn system every time a person simply looks at you in the right way. Or sometimes Jason doesn’t even have to look at him. He has to simply be there and smile and Howard would feel like there is a fucking legion of butterflies, bees, fireflies and other type of insects absolutely taking over his stomach with how hard he’s swooning over Jason’s existence.

Not that he’s fighting it, mind. He’s too far gone for that. On the contrary, he’s letting himself enjoy every second of it. Which, to be fair, is really easy to do with Jason being so… _available_ , if that’s even the word. Did Howard mention that Jason is possibly the most charming man he’s ever met? Yes? Ok, remember that, because that is another reason why he shouldn’t be judged for feeling like he’s going to pass out every time Jason responds to his sweet comments, or smiles when Howard just stares at him like a fucking freak for no apparent reason.

Howard’s fucked. He’s aware. He was somewhat fucked before tonight, he’s definitely screwed now---

Where were they? Right. The illustrator. Jason mentioned Duane Bryers out of nowhere and Howard had no clue what he was on about.

“I know there’s a huge Hilda by Duane Bryers print in your shop’s waiting area.” Jason explains calmly, with his eyes fixed on the ceiling and letting his fingers travel from Howard’s hair to his forehead for a second, and then they are going to steal the cigarette from Howard’s hand without even looking.

“What?” Howard asks, deeply confused after letting out the smoke before he chokes on it because--- “How on earth do you know that?” He’s not alarmed, just curious. Sincerely curious. Someone could’ve told Jason, he supposes. Then again, he’s not entirely sure anyone in their circle of shared acquaintances even knows of the existence of Hilda, let alone recognizes her.

“I might’ve… been there once or twice.” Jay confesses with a tone that Howard has never heard on him before. Almost sounds as if he’s shy about it. Howard’s heart doesn’t jump at that, shut up.

“What? When?” He needed to know what was that about, alright? Why would Jason be in his studio?

“Weeks ago…” he adds in the same tone as before.

What the— _Weeks ago?_ “That can’t be” he shakes his head, sure of what he’s saying. There is no chance. He thought that maybe Jason would say something like ‘years ago’ and that would be unlikely but possible. Howard thinks that it would be absolutely impossible to forget something so fucking beautiful stepping into his shop but---well, maybe it was a busy day and he didn’t have time to pay that much attention. He has an assistant for that exact reason after all. But Jason is saying that he visited when they already knew each other… and there is no way in hell Howard could ever forget or ignore something like that. “I didn’t see you?” he guesses, because that is the only likely scenario for this to be true.

Jay hesitates and for a couple of seconds no word comes out of his mouth. He goes for another drag before speaking and it looks so much like he’s trying to say something that is complicated for him to admit, Howard is more confused than ever. “I never stayed long enough for you to.”

No, scratch that, _now_ he’s the most confused he’s ever been. “I don’t understand” Oh god, he’s killing Howard with the lack of fucking details. “Why?” he lifts his body slightly, supporting his weight on his elbows and notices that Jay is still not looking in his direction. What is happening?

“I didn’t…” Jay starts but stops himself. His eyebrows are knitted and he gives Howard the joint back. For a moment, it’s not entirely obvious why it is being so damn difficult for him to just explain how he was there, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal after all. But then it dawns on him… this is a confession. There’s a bigger point to this and whatever comes out of Jay’s mouth is not going to be meaningless. Like, he is not going to simply say that it was a coincidence that from all the tattoo shops in the city, he ended up there and then he learnt it was Howard’s place.

Howard’s attention is nowhere but on Jason’s lips now, eagerly waiting for the rest of the sentence he started and never finished. He wants to make the other man know that, so he opts for putting the blunt aside and leaving it forgotten on the ashtray and sits fully on his arse, looking directly at Jay and lifting up his eyebrows with a curious smile on his face; nothing but good natured inquisitiveness on his expression.

Jason chuckles in a self-deprecating way, one that somehow doesn’t really match him and bites his lip before speaking again. “It sounds quite stupid now, considering--- but--- you know you are pretty intimidating, yeah?” he tries and this time he is looking back at Howard, like he’s really asking him if he knows what he means.

Which---to be fair, Howard doesn’t. “What do you mean?” _Intimidating?_ That’s not--- that’s not exactly a compliment, is it? “I look frightening to you or some shit?” Howard’s not stupid. He knows that, for some people, tattoos can be intimidating. He knows that there are a lot of ignorant people, who think that tattoos are something that thugs wear or that they are an expression of aggression; others that when they see a grown man have them automatically assume ‘outlaw’ or maybe even frightens them. What he never thought though, didn’t even occur to him, is that Jason would be one of those people. And that possibility sort of hurt, because this was his life and that was so not who he was---

“Lord, no” Jason answers without missing a beat and with the most indignant tone. Almost as if Howard was insulting him by jumping into insane conclusions and saying the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I’m not that thick, How” he continues with the same tone and gently slaps his arm, scolding him. That automatic reaction making Howard chest feel lighter. Making him feel very stupid as well, for being so fast to assume the worst. “I mean that you are impressive… what I saw and heard people say about you…” Jason continues in such a soft voice, almost like he’s whispering a secret, a sweet one. Howard is visibly astonished for---a number of reasons. First, the obvious one; Jason thinks he’s impressive. Second; he’s been asking about him—he already knows that one, but let him be, he’s not over it. And third, because Jason’s looking at him like he’s in utter disbelief that he has to be saying what he says next out loud; like it’s a foreign, even ridiculous idea that Howard doesn’t already know. “Talented, strong minded, handsome as all hell, funny, charming and one of the coolest people…” Howard is not blushing. He is totally breathing fine. His heart is not pounding so hard it’s basically fighting its way out of his chest. He doesn’t feel his hands and ears warm because he feels impossibly ruffled by the fact that those words are too big, especially when coming from someone like Jason “…but also reserved and very private. I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me appearing out of nowhere at your work, outside of the club I mean…” and his blood is definitely not feeling like fire under his skin when Jason places that gentle and delicate hand on Howard’s cheek. He doesn’t feel dizzy when Jason smiles calmly at him, obviously realizing that the confession he just made wasn’t badly received. Nope. None of those things happens.

Only… they so did and Howard can’t possibly gather himself enough to pretend otherwise. Not after _that_.

Jason…he’s not only been paying attention to him, from much closer than he’s dared to imagine but—he’s also been trying to get closer to him, to approach him, and didn’t know how. Sort of like what Howard’s been doing. They’ve wanted and needed each other in silence and it took them months to get to this point. How ridiculous is that? Why is Howard feeling so fucking touched by that?  And why is Jason looking at him with such fondness he could melt a fucking glacier with the warmness that those bright brown eyes are radiating?

It’s intense, the silence that follows Jason’s revelation. It doesn’t come from a place of discomfort but from somewhere a lot more beautiful. It comes from finally realizing that they might just be in the same place, the both of them. Maybe… just maybe, Howard can start processing how fucking lucky he is. Accept it, even---something he’s been trying not to do for fear of being wrong and then having to deal with the letdown. But now… he thinks he gets it. He hopes he does. Maybe they are in sync in a lot more ways, not only physically.

With that in mind, is that his hand goes to tenderly grab Jason’s by the wrist, moving it gently just so he can kiss his fingers. “Just so you know… I would’ve been really okay with seeing you outside of the club” he needs him to know. Howard’s aware that he’s been nothing but transparent about his fascination when it came to Jason so far, but he needs to reinforce that. Let Jason know that it truly is okay.

“I know that now” Jason cheekily answers, maybe even being a little smug but Howard thinks he’s allowed to; he’s pretty sure his face is so fucking red and his delighted expression so obvious, Jason’s allowed to be as pleased with himself as he wants to.

That doesn’t mean that Howard’s just going to take it, though. Oh no. He sorely needs to retaliate. So he does. He decides to do so in a tender, deep, sweet, long and meaningful kiss that leaves them both breathless and in need for more.

It is a damn _good_ kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don’t know anything about Duane Bryers’ Hilda I recommend you Google the illustrations. They are absolutely brilliant and gorgeously cute ♥


	4. I know this feeling won't go

Howard opens his eyes and the first thing he thinks about is the obvious realization that this is not his bed. It smells different, sort of like coconut-y but with a hint of something a lot more hippie… probably patchouli or some shit, he’s not sure. Then there’s the mattress; it’s way too stiff—his own mattress feels like a cloud, it kills his back but it’s so damn comfy he can’t help but keep it. Also there’s the light, there’s a big ass window with the curtains open and he would never let that happen; he hates waking up with the light of the day attacking his eyes.

It doesn’t last more than a couple of seconds, the confusion… because then he remembers; why he is not waking up in his bed. So a smile takes over his entire face. Without even opening his eyes yet, he buries his nose in the pillow and takes a huge breath. It smells like him, so of course he’s beaming like a fucking idiot. He’s waking up in Jason’s bed and he can’t possibly think of a better way to start the day.

Last night was… well, overwhelming is a word. Magnificent is another. Absolutely and utterly out of this fucking world, would be appropriate, if you were to ask Howard. It’s also nothing like what he thought that night was going to be.

You see, when the only thing he did was _watch_ , he would have the filthiest fantasies with Jason as a protagonist. He would think of the sexiest ways to have him, the most erotic and incredibly obscene. He lusted over him, shamelessly. That was the kind of interaction he always imagined with Jay. Even if part of him always wondered what Jason would be like outside of the physical aspects, he never really dared to think too much beyond that. Because he was aware that his infatuation came from an… unreal place. One where he didn’t know Jason; couldn’t possibly guess if they’d match that way. He wasn’t even sure he’d even like Jason beyond the superficial aspects of his infatuation. So yeah, he couldn’t possibly know if they would match in other important aspects, so he never dared to fantasize beyond his sexual desires. Sure, maybe in his weakest days, he’d silently wish Jason was as fantastic as he wanted him to be, but the truth is that he didn’t know. So he tended to stop his daydreaming more often than not before it even had time to start. His infatuation with Jason was already bordering teenage obsession, didn’t need to make it worse by losing himself in abstract and unfair idealizations of what Jason could be and what he wanted him to be. He used to feel pathetic enough as it was.

But then last night happened and every carnal expectation he had was matched… and then some. Call it chemistry or whatever it’s supposed to be, but last night he had the best sex of his life. It wasn’t the most complex or sophisticated but sex doesn’t need to be that to be fucking fantastic. It was heated and rough but sweet and tender at times, all in the right amount. Grabbing Jason and having him against the bathroom vanity unit, looking at each other in the mirror while they came was fucking delicious but then those tender kisses they shared while they were showering together were just as intoxicating. It was dirty and loud when it counted but so quiet and romantic in ways he never thought he’d enjoy. He’s never felt the need to be romantic, that’s the thing; never been against it either… it’s just that he didn’t believe in forcing that and even if ideally he always liked the idea of being comfortable enough with someone to be naturally corny, that has never happened to him. Until last night---it just felt, well, natural. And Howard wonders if that’s what finding someone special feels like, someone really special. Someone that _clicks_ with him the way no one else did before, no matter how many lovers he’s had in the past.

And even if he wasn’t even near the vicinity of done with Jason, still had a long list of thing he wanted to do with him, this morning something was evident and that was that he woke up satisfied, relaxed, well rested but deliciously sore in all the right places. And… happy. Not only sexually fulfilled but actually _happy_.

That’s another thing that should be terribly basic, right? Have sex, good sex, wake up happy the next day. But this kind of happiness is a different one. Because what makes him happy is not only that he made Jason come a more than decent amount of times or that he found someone that enjoyed being somewhat submissive as much as he likes being dominant but that also managed to challenge him and provoke him enough to drive him fucking nutters. Or not _only_ because of that. Yesterday was a fucking wet fantasy come true, sure; but it also was another type of fantasy. One that looked a lot similar to those daydreams he didn’t let himself have. One where they laughed and joked and talked, like, _really_ talked. He learnt Jason dreamt about being a pilot since he was a little kid and his parents took him for the first time to an airport, that he struggled with his weight while growing up and that’s part of the reason why he takes care of his body the way he does, that he’s afraid of clowns, his favorite flower is the jasmine, he loves outdoors activities and has eleven sisters. And Jason learnt things about Howard’s life, very personal shit that… well, that Howard never opened up about to anyone other than Mark, and even that was months into their friendship and with some serious heavy drinks as incentive. What was that word? Right: natural. It all felt too natural and just… right. Jason makes him feel like he can talk to him, even if anyone would consider it too fast to be openly talking about the shit that went down the day he came out to his father, or how fucked up he was for such a long time after losing his mother. It was like every time he thought of speaking too much too soon even crossed his mind, there Jason was, stopping it and reassuring him with the brightest most honest look that he wanted to hear him talk. That he wanted to know those dark places in Howard’s past, not only the lighter, fun ones. _That_ is what this happiness is about. It is another kind of happy he can’t quite explain to himself, no yet—but the truth is that… he doesn’t care. Who cares about understanding happiness when you are riding it, let’s be real.

So… no better way to start the day than here. Or—actually, that is wrong, there _is_. But that poses a problem, because he is alone in Jason’s bed and every idea he has to make this morning better involves him as well. _Where the fuck is he?_

Normally he would love to stay between the sheets for at least another hour but he figures if he does, his head is going to start to go places. He’s going to start thinking of the many reasons Jason could have to not be in bed and why he has just woken up alone, or if all of the things he was feeling were one sided and he should be on his way because by staying he might be overstaying his welcome and---yeah, he decides that getting up is a much better option than the alternative. Instead of drowning in his insecurities, he’d like to actually find out what was going on. It’s a much safer option to not give his head the time to wake up and really think about that happiness and the possible downsides of its nature. He is not an overly insecure person, for god sakes. He has his days, sure, everyone has them. But these kinds of doubts, when they’ve shared the kind of night they shared—they were stupid. So he is not going to entertain them and he is going to find Jason and give him a good morning kiss and that is that. That is the plan—as soon as he puts some pants on, if he can find them in the mess of scattered clothes on the floor.

The apartment is not that big, so it doesn’t take him more than a minute to find the kitchen. He heard noise coming from it, so he assumes that’s where Jay is. He is right. After a quick detour to the loo, he follows the metallic sound of a blender and there Jason is, beautifully wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, serving something disgustingly green in a big glass and looking way too awake in comparison to how Howard thinks he might look. “What the hell are you doing up?” he asks in a faux offended tone, approaching the small bar separating the table area from the cooking one, where Jason is, now drinking that vomit looking beverage.

“Well, look who finally decided to wake up” Jason greets with a calm, honest smile. “I thought you were dead” then adds and Howard looks at him with an eyebrow raised. What is he talking about? What time is it? “But then I checked and I figured no one who snored that loudly could possibly be dying” It’s cute, Howard thinks. He’s being dramatic and cheeky.

“I…” Howard is going for a comeback but the truth is that he has a point. “Yeah, okay” they laugh, almost at the same time because of how fast Howard agrees. He’s aware he sounds like a fucking chainsaw fighting a bulldozer, so he can’t even act like he’s offended. Instead he decides to lean on the counter and steal one of the carrot sticks that are on a plate there. Ew. Who the hell has carrots for breakfast? “So, Mister Dramatic, what time is it?” he asks because now he’s curious.

“Almost noon” Jason answers immediately, moving towards the coffee maker and revealing a freshly made pot that smells like heaven.

Also, wait—noon? “That’s… not bad—” Howard realizes and feels like he should sleep some more. The last time he checked the clock last night it was—well, it was actually this morning, at like 5 am when they were arguing about who would get to be the little spoon. God, they are gross. And Howard’s not smiling at the memory, thank you. Also, that was not the point of the memory either, it was that it is noon and Jason looks like he’s been awake for the past two hours. “I feel a bit insulted, actually…” he starts, ready to act mildly offended because he actually thought that everything they did last night was considered a good enough workout to at least keep them both passed out until noon. He was particularly proud of his performance and quite marveled about Jason’s stamina, if he’s honest. So what is he doing up so early and--- _Oh, right…_ “Oh--- you are an early riser; I forgot you had a flaw” he remembers Jason said something about it yesterday but he didn’t think he was being serious. Howard hates morning, he really does. Mornings are the worst part of his day. And he would really try to engage in a rant explaining why mornings suck and why Jason was not living his life properly, if it weren’t for two factors: one, his brain is still half asleep and the smell of fresh coffee is killing him. And second, Jason looks at him and sticks out his tongue like he’s a fucking child and Howard can’t do anything apart from smiling like a fucking insane person because that was the cutest thing he’s seen this grown man do so far.

He’d really like to kiss Jason right now. He wonders if that’s okay.

Only he spends a little too much time thinking about it, his brain is only partially working since there is no caffeine in his system after all, and Jason moves towards the stove; the used pans just sitting there suddenly reminding Howard that he hasn’t eaten anything since dinner last night. And no, Jason doesn’t count (alright, he does giggle to himself for that, but it’s internally, so no one can judge him for laughing at such an obvious joke). “So, grizzly bear, do you fancy some breakfast?” unnecessary nickname giving Howard unnecessary joy, he considers. He’ll take it.

“Always” he answers without missing a beat, his stomach suddenly very interested in the topic.

“There’s fried bread and sausage” _Oh god, yes_ “Or gluten free toasts and oatmeal if you are feeling like not dying before you hit 40” Jason explains and Howard’s disgusted face is a direct enough answer to how much he is not interested in that last offer.  

“Sausage, please, yes” Howard answers maybe a bit desperate. Or a lot desperate now that he remembers that the last thing he ate was a lousy hotdog before heading to the club because he wasn’t hungry but didn’t want to drink on an empty stomach. There was another interesting thing about the subject, though “You cook?”

“Not _this_ kind of food” Jason answers a bit too judgmental for Howard’s liking as he takes the lid of one of the pans, revealing the food still in it. “I actually care about what I put into my body.”

Ok, fair enough. Completely foreign to Howard, but fair enough. Just to humor Jason, he goes for the tall glass filled with that green ugly looking drink and takes a sip. It tastes like grass and coconut and nothing, all at the same time; he wonders how that is even possible. Howard concludes that it was a huge mistake because that thing is fucking gross, so he puts it back on the counter. Still wrinkling his nose in clear dislike, he does accept reality, “healthy eater…” he is the one being judgmental now, clearly exaggerating for dramatic purposes and he’s satisfied when Jason gets it.

“I keep disappointing you, I’m crushed” he counters with a sympathetic hand on his own chest and pouting adorably.

“You should be” Howard answers and then laughs a little, nodding enthusiastically when Jason points to the coffee pot silently asking if he wants some.  “So, what’s the deal with that breakfast then?” he wonders because if Jason didn’t cook it, then who did?

“My roommate’s boyfriend does cook, and he’s a pig like you” Jason explains and that… is brand new information to Howard. “They came home early this morning and left no more than 10 minutes ago” Oh good; he was wondering if they were in the apartment for last night and he was starting to feel a bit bad because they were everything but subtle about what they’ve been doing. Not super bad, though. But maybe only a little. 

“Roommate?” Howard ponders out loud, receiving the cup of coffee “And here I was thinking pilots made a decent living” he jokes but with interest hidden. It’s not like he cares how much money Jason makes really, it’s just that he’s honestly curious. That’s going to be a problem, maybe. He wants to know everything about Jason, and he was on board with that during the conversation they had last night but Howard didn’t really know if that was still on the table. And that scares him a little but--- he also, really wants to find out where Jason stands in this.

“We do” Jason answers while covering the pan again, turning on the burner in order to heat the food. Howard smiles for no apparent reason, but he’s charmed by everything Jason does, so he finds himself smiling at the gesture. “Makes no sense to live alone when I’m not in town so often, does it?” Jason continues and yes, of course that makes sense. For a minute there, Howard forgot. “Rob’s a writer so he works from home, he can take care of the place in a way that I can’t.” He continues and Howard makes the mental note to remember Jason’s roommate’s name. Even if he still doesn’t know if that’s going to be necessary or useful.

Shit. He really needs to know where Jason stands in this. Because, yeah, sure, Jason’s being kind, inviting, he’s being incredibly polite and sweet by offering this coffee and breakfast but—that doesn’t mean anything, right? That’s not exactly the kind of information Howard needs.

“Right” he absentmindedly acknowledges what Jason says and decides to go for it. What does he really have to lose? He knows what he wants and after having a taste of what Jason’s like, he doesn’t want to do anything half-assed. _Can’t_ do that. He won’t accept it. So, Howard borders the bar that separates them, getting closer to Jason. He leaves the coffee after giving it a small sip and approaches him without saying a word. Jason doesn’t see it coming so he’s startled only for a second when he feels Howard arms holding him from behind. “Morning” he whispers in Jason’s ear. “How are we playing this? Am I allowed to do this?” he continues and automatically smiles, relaxing a bit when he feels Jason naturally adjusting to his hug, forgetting all about the pan and his disgusting smoothie only to hold Howard’s hands with his own, securing them on his tummy.  “Or am I making you feel so uncomfortable you are trying to find an excuse to get me to leave your flat?” Howard tentatively asks, trying to sound like he’s joking and not entirely desperate –which is, to be honest, how he actually feels.

“Depends” Howard would say Jason sounds too cold and unaffected, if it weren’t for the way he has his eyes closed and he’s tilting his head so that Howard has more space to run his lips over the soft skin of his neck.

“On?” Howard asks, leaving a sweet kiss right on the sensitive spot behind Jason’s ear.

“Am I still allowed to want you close?” is what Jason asks and Howard has to basically stop breathing. “Even after today, I mean.” Well… that’s kind of what he was wondering himself, wasn’t it?

“Depends,” he decides on mirroring the other man’s response, trying really hard not to just break into song, honestly.

“On?” Jason echoes as well, sounding just as interested as Howard did a second ago.

And yes, that is his opening isn’t’ it? An opening to say it out loud, to admit that he is done with all the excitement he felt with how unpredictable Jason was. “On you letting me know the next time you are in town.” He decides to go with that; his smile gets bigger when he can _hear_ the relief in Jason’s deep sigh. He is sure now; he doesn’t want to ever wonder again when he will be seeing this gorgeous human being again. No, he wants to _know_. “I’m not leaving it up to chance again,” he decides to add because that’s another thing. He’s sure of that. No more doing things half way, no more staring, no more wondering. “I’m definitely not gonna stand in a corner to just watch you anymore.” He knows he’s sounding a lot more confident than how he actually feels.

“Demanding,” Jason murmurs in a teasing tone; his fingers delicately travelling the length of one of Howard’s palms, until they are fully holding hands.

“You heard me,” Howard counters, exaggerating the tone a little but smiling when Jason opens his eyes to find his.

“I’m leaving tomorrow night… and I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“That’s not good enough, Jay.” Howard shakes his head, moving his free hand from Jason’s tummy to his jaw, using two fingers to grab it gently and gets closer to the other man’s lips, without touching them just yet. He scolds his face so that he’s looking at him in a very serious way. Jason’s still, so very still and Howard has to really do his best not to break at that very second. The butterflies in his stomach feel like a fucking stampede of elephants at the moment and he feels the electricity of Jason’s warmth so close to him in ways he can’t possibly explain without sounding like a damn lunatic. The only thing he wants is to kiss those lips, kiss them for hours; he even forgot all about how hungry he was. “I’m going to need a phone call,” Howard informs and finally smiles fondly, licking his own lips and very pointedly not breaking eye contact “and that you bring me some token from whatever part of the world you visit next.”

Howard can’t help but let that huge beam take absolute control of his face because Jason barely lets him finish before he’s the one stealing a kiss, laughing so joyfully during the action it makes Howard’s heart do a fucking triple somersault in his chest.

And if a year later, Howard has to build an entire new shelf in his living room wall to have somewhere to put all the items he’s been gifted; then it would be his own fault for asking.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to talk to me, this is my [Tumblr](http://marea707.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
